Obsession is Bliss
by sardonicferret
Summary: It's sixth year, and Draco finally figured out something that he had been in denial over for a rather long time. An obsession, something that can easily be hidden, but what if the source of his obsession was over someone he hated?
1. Double Potions

**Note: **This fanfiction was written about a year ago, and I've just gotten around to posting it here. I hope that you enjoy reading it.

* * *

Obsession: a compulsive preoccupation with a fixed idea or an unwanted feeling or emotion, often accompanied by symptoms of anxiety; a persistant _disturbing_ preoccupation with an often unreasonable idea or feeling. An attraction, compulsion, consumption, craze, fetish, passion, _crush_. That sounded about right. There was nothing else to explain it, really. He had to accept it someday, and why wait until he was so deep down into this craze, that he'd end up going insane? At least now he knew what was wrong with him. He had an obsession. An unwanted obsession, one in which he had no idea existed until the beginning of this year.

This wasn't a _normal_ obsession, if you could call any of them normal. It wasn't the run-of-the-mill type, where you were obsessed with watching television, or eating without rest, or where you were sure that you were in love with a celebrity, and that they'd soon fall in love with you. No, it wasn't that, it was-- wait, a celebrity? That _did_ sound dreadfully familiar. Maybe this _was_ a run-of-the-mill obsession? After all, Harry James Potter was certainly considered a celebrity among all of the students here at Hogwarts. In fact, the entire wizarding world knew about the scarred boy and his great feat of surviving Voldemort.

Ha. That was interesting. Draco Malfoy was _obsessed_ with Harry James Potter; in_ love _with a celebrity. How nice.

* * *

Classes had started off the same as any other year. He pleased the professors; he recieved good marks. He finished all his work, managed to stay a step behind the smartest witch in the school; Hermione Granger, and finally managed to land on McGonagall's good side. Snape, it seemed, favored him over all the others _still_, and he was rather thankful for that advantage. However, that didn't seem to make much of a difference; he was fantastic in Potions anyway. So what was there to worry about? He would pass sixth year as easily as he could slice a knife through butter. Except... there was one small problem.

His fixation with Harry bloody Potter.

It was Double Potions at the moment, and he was lucky enough to have this class with the Gryffindors, like usual. Right after breakfast too; when he felt like he would burst from all the food he had decided to eat. Not that he normally ate this much; he had just been especially hungry this certain morning. Or, maybe it had been because he was trying to get the horrible taste of Pansy out of his mouth? It wasn't often that she jumped on him, absolutely desperate for any human contact that deemed possible at the time. He growled, just thinking of last night. He even took the time to glance to the side of him, where she was sitting in a desk next to Blaise, looking pouty about something. An icy glare was sent her way, and she pouted even more before he turned back to concentrate his gaze on Snape.

Yes, Snape was the same as every other year too. His greasy black hair, his long nose, his pale features, his obvious dislike for everyone who wasn't in his house. It was the good days again. If only the bloody git would treat Harry better. If he was correct in his assuming, he would swear that the professor had some sort of unbeknownst grudge on Harry, which seemed to mean more than the boy just being a _celebrity_. Maybe Snape needed to sort out some of his inner problems.

_Speaking of Harry, _Draco thought, _he's looking awfully good today. Well, as good as he looks every day. That'll never change. _Right now, his eyes were focused on the back of the room, where Harry was chatting idly with his two Gryffindor pals, Granger and Weasley. He could just smack those smug and happy looks from their faces. It was supposed to be _him_ who was making Harry smile like that. Why the hell was he _smiling_ in Potions class anyway? Wasn't that prohibited by the Professor himself?

"Mr. Malfoy, if you could turn your attention back to the lesson, please? Or is there something more interesting than the workings of a Truth Serum?" Draco turned around quickly to see the long nosed Professor standing over him, his dark eyes narrowed into slits. He knew that the man spotted him sneaking a glance towards the back of the class. "Perhaps we should use you as an example to the effects of a Truth Serum? I'm sure the class would love to know what's more important than paying attention in class."

Had he gone mad? Draco thought that he was _favored_ in Snape's eyes; he was supposed to be able to get _away_ with things. "No, it's alright Professor. I'm listening now." His hands were brought to rest in front of him, lying on the desk, and his eyes snapped back to the front of the room. He could sense that Harry's grin had grown wider. If only the Gryffindor knew that he was the cause of Draco's lack of attention.

Snape's lips formed into a thin line as he marched back to the front of the room to continue the lecture about the Truth Serum. They were to begin this potion brewing sometime during this period, and Draco honestly wasn't in the mood today. Especially now. He was _only_ just scolded by his favorite Head of House, and Harry was back there laughing at him. A Truth Serum didn't matter when these things were being worried over. Sighing inwardly, he tried his best to keep his attention on the lecture. It was quite difficult when he could still sense the lingering smile on Harry's face behind him, and so he distracted himself from his thoughts by tapping his thin fingers against the desk. Silently, of course.

"Now, as this Potion will take up the time of the next ten Potion classes, I'll be assigning you homework each Friday, so that you'll have plenty to do over the weekend. If it is not completed, you will recieve a lower grade on the final product of your serum, as well as getting points taken off for your inability to finish homework in the proper amount of time." Snape glanced around the classroom, eyeing the few students he was inclined to see fail and lose points. Those small few being Weasley, Longbottom, and hopefully Potter. However, it was only hope on Harry's behalf. His black eyes went back to observing the entire class. "I will be assigning partners, and I assure you that if any misbehavior disrupts the class, there will be more points taken." Walking smoothly, or maybe it was more like _greasily_, Snape retrieved a piece of parchment from his desk to read off the names of the lucky pairs.

There was no doubting that there were going to be some unhappy Slytherins and Gryffindors this period.

"Parkinson and Weasley."

There was an obvious groan from across the room, and he couldn't tell if it was Weasley or Pansy. It could've been a combination. Draco stole a look backwards to see that Harry was giving his best mate a sympathetic look, and Granger was looking quite... jealous. He smirked to himself.

"Zabini and Longbottom."

"Goyle and Brown."

"Nott and Patil."

"Crabbe and Finnigan."

The rest of the names being called were blocked from his mind. He'd only listen for his own name, and possibly Harry's. He was desperate to find out who the Gryffindor would be paired with, seeing as Snape was pairing up Slytherins and Gryffindors. Maybe it'd be him? Or maybe it'd be Bulstrode? Ugh, he hated to think of that. At the current moment, he was smirking at Pansy from where she had joined the disgruntled redhead.

"Bulstrode and Thomas..."

"Malfoy and Potter..."

"Larson and Granger..."

Wait, had he heard correctly? Was his luck really starting to earn up to it's rightful place! He was paired with Potter! _Harry bloody Potter_! If he had been out of his right mind, he would've jumped into the air with absolute joy. The only thing stopping him was the other Slytherins watching him carefully, the Gryffindors doing the same, and Snape keeping a watchful eye. Oh, and there was his own reputation of keeping sane. Draco looked over at the Professor to make sure he was correct in his hearing, and was pleased to see the usual smug smirk on Snape's face; the one that was loving the idea of torturing Harry by putting him with Draco. After all, it was only a legend of how Malfoy and Potter were blood enemies.

Resisting the urge to grin like a madman, he looked back at Potter and saw the obvious frown of displeasure on his face. As much as it hurt to see it; it still didn't dampen his mood. How could he expect Potter to be ecstatic about being paired with him for the next ten Potions classes?

_Right. Okay, I can certainly do this. Standing next to Potter for long periods of time and being able to talk to him throughout that time should be easy. As long as I can keep my hands off him, and try not to say anything that would throw him off guard. Yes, this is possible. Act normal._

Draco was a bit paranoid over this whole affair; he was probably overreacting about something so simple, but he couldn't help it. Thankfully, his skills at hiding emotions and acting like his git self would cover up for any other feeling. Scowling, he stood up from his desk, his chair scraping across the floor loudly, and started making his way over to Potter as if he'd rather scrub the dungeon floors than be with him. Behind him, Snape looked cheerful.

"Potter." He greeted the boy flatly as he sat down in the empty seat next to the Gryffindor. Harry, if anything, looked ready to kill himself. His head was slumped in one propped elbow, looking at Draco with so much hatred that it was almost contagious.

"Malfoy," he responded dully, his bright emerald eyes not so bright anymore. Draco knew that Harry was cursing Snape to no end inside of that mind of his. Well, at least Snape was getting what he wanted. So was Draco.

"I suppose we should stop staring at eachother and get to collecting those ingredients. The procedure is written on the board, if you hadn't noticed yet." Draco eyed him carefully, making sure to keep up the hateful stare. Couldn't have Harry becoming curious, could he?

"Of course. Go collect them, then."

"I'm sure that I can do more use than collecting ingredients. I'll be the one _working_ on the Potion, after all. You probably don't know the difference between slicing and crushing." Draco smirked. Harry looked bored.

"I know how to do much more than what your stupid friends know how to do. So you go get the ingredients for once in your life. Or shall I summon a house elf to do it for us?" Draco laughed derisively, his hands clasped on the desk in front of him, keeping his grey eyes on Harry.

"You _are_ the house elf, Potter. Now go."

There was a frustrated sigh before Harry stood up; so suddenly that the chair bounced backwards and made Draco jump. Before he could shoot back some sort of snide remark, Harry was already marching towards the supply cabinet, where everyone else had already gathered their parts. On his way back, the Gryffindor was careful to let everything drop onto the desk in front of Draco's hands. He scowled, dropping roughly back into his seat, his eyes angry. "There, are you happy? I thought that maybe you'd come over here, acting a bit decent as it seems we'll be working together for a while, but I guess I was just getting my hopes up. Did you want me to serve you the correct amounts of ingredients on a platter, your majesty?"

Draco was surprised at first. He didn't expect Harry to react like this. He _always_ acted sarcastic and quite bossy around Harry; the boy couldn't be getting _tired _of him, could he? Instead of shooting insults, Harry sounded exasperated that he even had to speak to the Slytherin. It was the exasperation of someone who was tired of being treated the way he was, tired of needing to respond in defense every time he was in Draco's presence, and someone who really _hated_ the person they happened to be paired with. Draco's heart sank, but he kept up his habitual Malfoy attitude anyway.

"Since you asked, would you be as kind to do so?" His eyes glittered dangerously, his guilt of having to act this way turned into anger that only had to do with the way Harry was treating him; as if he had something better to do.

"No, I wouldn't," Harry snapped.

"Do you have something _against_ me, Potter?" His tone was delightful sarcasm.

"Only anything and everything that has to do with you."

"Ouch, that hurt. My feelings have been shattered by your cruelty."

Harry's head whipped around to glare at him. Strangely enough, they had both taken a part of the ingredients Harry had gathered, and were starting to slice and dice accordingly. Neither of them had noticed. Now they were merely talking to eachother as they did the job.

"I'm going to shatter your face if you keep up that fucking sarcasm."

_That's a first. The Boy-Who-Lived just said fuck? I'm learning new things every day._

And so, Draco dropped the sarcasm, and only delighted in the fact that he was standing next to Harry without needing an excuse. They stopped talking for a while, knowing that if they started arguing about the Potion again, they'd get a bad grade from Snape. Well, _Harry_ would, in any case.

God, even though Harry hated him, could Potions class get any _better_?


	2. The Last Expectance

By the middle of the period, both himself and Harry had finished slicing up at least half of the ingredients. Silence had issued the entire time, and the only sounds that _were_ heard, were the grumbling complaints from Weasley and the short shrieks coming from Longbottom's table. Apparently the knife that the boy was using to cut the ingredients was playing tag with his fingers. What a complete idiot. 

"Watch where you put that, Malfoy."

He snapped out of his staring contest with the stupidity of the other students, only to look down to where Harry was referring. His knife was an inch from almost cutting off one of the boy's fingers. Harry, amazingly, didn't seem at all bothered by it. He appeared annoyed more than he did afraid. Draco knew that he'd go crazy if someone had almost cut his perfect finger off.

_Why do these knifes need to be so bloody sharp?_

Draco's hand was pulled quickly away from where his knife was pointed, and he went back to cutting their potion's important essentials. It was more like shredding now; his hands were shaking uncontrollably. Maybe if Snape had picked an easier potion, then they wouldn't have to spend half of their class periods _cutting_ the ingredients. He'd rather brew a potion for hours; it was much safer. Safer for both him and Harry.

"Are you having a mental breakdown, or what?" Harry was staring at him curiously, his eyes fixed on the pale hands, which were still shaking horribly. Draco tried his best to act casual about it…

"I'm feeling sick."

"Oh, okay." Harry went back to the job in front of him; his expression uncaring. Draco swallowed nervously; almost as if he were fighting back tears. But Malfoy's _didn't_ cry. He was taking Harry's coldness too seriously.

"You don't care if I'm sick, do you?" Draco asked as he kept his eyes focused on the roots beneath his fingers. Concentration was draining into his fight to keep his hands straight.

"I wouldn't care if you dropped dead right in front of me and the rest of the school. I wouldn't care if you were killed by a hippogriff. I wouldn't care if you got your head bitten of by a giant man-eating flycatcher." Harry yawned, bringing one hand up to cover his mouth. "You've got to be out of your mind to ask me that question."

_I_ am _out of my mind, your inconsiderate prick_, Draco thought bitterly.

"Well, that's good to hear. I wouldn't care if the same happened to you." Draco's tone sounded like it was coming from a stubborn child, and it was odd enough to cause Harry to glance up at him; his hand coming up to absently scratch his head.

"Good," he said blankly, his emerald eyes confused.

"I know, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Of course it is."

"Will you _stuff it_ already?" Harry snapped irritably; his eyes back on the cutting.

"No," Draco responded dryly.

Snape suddenly appeared out of nowhere; passing them by slowly, his gaze penetrating and searching to see if their were any problems he could blame Harry for. Sadly there were none, and he left their view with a dissatisfied scowl, soon heading to the desk beside them, where Goyle and Lavender Brown were working. The tense Slytherin and aggravated Gryffindor both breathed a sigh of relief. It was lucky that they weren't arguing during the moment the professor had appeared.

"This is dull," Harry commented, a hand moving restlessly through his raven locks. Draco looked over at him, watching each and every move. He about memorized them by now. It was only the habit of a true obsessive. He wasn't sure if he should be happy about him being the only one who actually watched Harry that closely, or if he should be deeply uncomfortable about it. Most likely, he needed to be worrying about the second alternative and the feeling it brought. "I wish I could spend my time doing something worth while."

There was a sigh. Draco realized it had been him. "Why isn't this worthwhile?"

"Because I have to work with _you_."

"Get a life, Potter. Honestly, if I'm really that bad, you might as well have killed me already. If you want to keep complaining, then save it for someone else who will care."

"Look who's talking. You're acting like a hypocrite."

"Excuse me? Malfoys are _not_ hypocrites." Draco sniffed indignantly.

"You say that I'm the one complaining. You were earlier; all over the bloody ingredients."

"That wasn't complaining. It was ordering you to get them for me. I'd think that you'd know that sort of major difference."

Harry snorted. "You're full of yourself."

As a smirk spread across his face, and he realized that his hands had stopped shaking. This was new. He seemed to be getting along quite well with Harry, even though they were still getting on each other's cases. It was 'getting along' in some way or the other. And even if it wasn't considered getting along, Draco liked to think it was.

"I doubt that," Draco replied casually.

"I don't."

Rolling his eyes, Draco decided to stop talking again. He preferred to take this time to watch Harry work. The boy couldn't notice at the moment; his attention was drawn completely away from Draco. His bright eyes (and Draco was pleased to note that they were much brighter now than they were when he first came over here) were narrowed in concentration, one hand holding the knife carefully and steadily between two slender fingers, the other planted flat on the desk. His tongue was poking out the side of his mouth; another result of the sharp concentration, and only the most observant person could notice this. Every once and a while Harry's hand would come up to push back small, dark strands of hair away from his forehead.

"What the hell are you doing?" Draco snapped out of his reverie just as rapidly as a kick to the stomach would've done to startle him. Harry was staring at him strangely.

_Wow, 'hell', another word to add the list of words I never thought he'd use in public._

"Nothing," he tore his eyes away from the attractive Gryffindor, "Just trying to think of things better than being here, of course."

Harry's eyes narrowed. He seemed to have mistaken Draco's lie as something serious, and he was once again offended. There was nothing new here.

"You think I'm happy about being here?"

"How should I know what you're thinking?"

There was silence, and then Harry's calm (or slightly calm) attitude seemed to have shattered. Weren't they getting along fine just a few minutes ago? Well, in Draco's perspective, they had been getting along quite fine.

"Just shut _up_, for the dark lord's sake."

_For the dark lord's sake? You have got to be joking._

"Maybe if you stopped crawling up my arse about how you're not happy about this situation." Draco scowled. The mood was starting to rub off on him. Here he was, trying his best trying to _be_ mean, and he was having a difficult time. However, if this kept up, it'd steadily get easier.

"I think _you_ should shut up, Potter. You and your righteous self are getting on my last nerve." Draco resisted letting an angry growl escape, and he started chopping the roots roughly this time; his hands were beginning to shake again.

"Why should I care!"

"Because you're being a bloody jackass!"

"Oh, now _I'm_ the jackass?"

"Yes, you are!"

There was more severe hacking at their table; their eyes boring holes into the soon-to-be-chipped surfaces. No one had noticed the pair bickering yet, but Snape would soon notice it, if he wasn't too busy pestering the Longbottom boy. Harry and Draco didn't seem to care about the prospect of getting in trouble, however; they were too distressed to care.

"I'm not surprised you think that. Malfoys think everyone beside themselves are jackasses!" Harry's eyes were blazing behind those black rimmed glasses.

"And Potters are too stubborn to admit that they do, in fact, act exactly like one!"

"I should kill you right now, Malfoy!"

"Then do it, why don't you! You've already tried doing the same to my father!"

"He deserved what he got and you know it. Even if he's your dad, he'll always be a lowly Death eater, bastard of a man. Why should I think that you're any differ--" Harry was cut off when a loud cracking noise echoed throughout the room.

The cracking sound, had in fact, been Draco's hand across Harry's face. Harry was staring wide-eyed at Draco, his mouth open and struggling to find words. "Don't you _ever_ fucking mention my father like that again. It was a mistake for me to even bring him up."

Draco hadn't expected to feel the urge of wanting to slap Harry. Really, he had become extremely nervous when he nearly cut Harry's finger off, and he hadn't even _touched_ the boy then. Now he left a fading red mark on the Gryffindor's face, and it was clear that it was hurting him. He almost regretted what he did… he didn't want to hurt Harry… but when the subject of his father came up, it was just going too far.

And so, if there was one thing everyone never imagined would happen, it was Draco Malfoy slapping Harry Potter.

Normally the Slytherin didn't strive to touch any part of any Gryffindor, let alone use physical violence on any single person. So it was a surprise to all who were staring in his direction. His hand had dropped to his side, and he honestly didn't know what to do now. Harry was staring at him in such shock and anger that it almost hurt to look at his face.

Draco hadn't made Harry smile _or_ laugh. He had made him hate him even more.

"I didn-" Draco started, but was cut short by the billowing of black robes advancing from the front of the classroom. It was a very furious looking Snape.

"I don't know what sort of show you two are trying to put on, but this is a classroom, and I expect the behavior of working students to be the _only_ thing taking place in here." He frowned disapprovingly at them both, his expression full of an obvious stunned look at Draco's behavior, as well as that fury. "I expected better behavior from _you_, Mr. Malfoy."

Every single Gryffindor and Slytherin was now looking at the scene unfolding. Harry had turned his head silently down to lock on the floor, his hand coming up every few seconds to rub his stinging cheek. The result of seeing this left a sharp pang in Draco's chest. Sighing, he looked up at the professor to await what he knew would happen.

"I'm afraid the two of you will be joining me after class to do a bit of extra work, as a consequence of this adolescent performance. Unfortunately for Longbottom and his partner, they didn't get _anything_ done, so you'll be spending the time after class finishing it for them. No matter how long it takes, you both will finish it, and I'll be writing a note to both of your next professors to let them know why you're absent from those classes. Is this clear?" His eyes shot daggers through both of their turned gazes.

"Yes, Professor," they both responded in unison. It sounded like poison sliced through the air (if poison could be heard); as if their voices mixing together made these dire circumstances seem worse.

"Good. Now get to work, and I hope you both know not to do this _ever_ again." With those last words, he whipped around and strode back to the front of the room. Draco and Harry both stood behind their table silently, their cutting reduced to tiny knocks against the wood every few minutes. Draco didn't dare speak; he was afraid of what Harry would say, or what he _wouldn't_ say. Harry was too lost in his own thoughts, his opinion of Draco far worse than it was before.

Draco knew that hoping the Potions class got better was now impossible.


	3. It was an Accident

"You'll both do exactly what you did in class today, and work as quickly and accurately as possible. When you have finished that, you will scrub the cauldrons sitting in the far corner of the room with _no_ magic." Snape frowned grimly at them. Draco could tell that the frown was more directed at Harry, even though the boy hadn't done anything to start the scene in class today. 

"But, professor, that'll take us all da-" Harry started, but was stopped by Snape's clear, sharp drawl.

"It doesn't matter how long it takes, Mr. Potter! You'll be staying here until everyone gathers in the Great Hall for dinner if you don't be quiet and listen! Now do the work! I'll be back to check on you both in a while, and I expect that you'll be standing here doing exactly what I ordered you to."

Draco stood there quietly as Snape exited the room through one of the dreadfully old looking doors. He still felt like he had ruined his life in one small morning; his anger had completely vanished from earlier. If he hadn't hit Harry, none of this would've happened. Harry wouldn't be hating him as bad as he was now either. God, why had he gotten mad over the subject of his father anyway? Draco _did_ agree with Harry, but he supposed he just couldn't stand hearing his father talked about like that in front of his face.

Wordlessly, Draco walked over to the table without any noise being made; his fingers slowly picked up the knife to begin cutting more ingredients. Almost hesitantly, Harry joined him, and they both stayed like that for at least ten minutes. It was tearing at him; the need to talk, and Draco didn't know if it was smart to speak up or not. He didn't know what Harry was thinking, but he could see the vacant expression in the boy's eyes. His face was pale, and his movements were appearing automatic, almost similar to that of someone being controlled by some anonymous force.

Finally, Draco decided that it was worth getting one word out rather than standing here oblivious to Harry's thoughts. "Listen, I'm sorr-"

"Save it," Harry muttered darkly.

The heart-sinking feeling returned. He fought back another lump that formed in his throat. What the hell was wrong with him? Obsessions were horrible. Now that he knew nerves and emotions were brought with them. Damn them, damn Harry!

"I was only going to apologize, Potter. No need to get pissy."

Harry paused, and Draco took notice of the boy trying his best not to blow up in another fit of anger. His teeth were gritted, and his fingers were holding onto the knife so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. Was he really _that_ bad?

"You _can't_ apologize, Malfoy. It's against the rules." He stared hard at the table.

"What rules, may I ask?"

"The ones you made for yourself."

"Oh, those. Of _course_."

Harry turned his head away from the chopping to glare at Draco, his face impassive. "Why the hell did you slap me?"

"You were talking about my father," Draco responded with forced calm.

"So? It shouldn't be anything new to you."

"I don't talk about _your_ parents anymore."

Harry became quiet again. Uneasy silence issued for another minute or so. It was true. Over the years they had talked about their parents less and less, and insulted each other's parents less and less. It was a good deal, really, because they both knew that it was a sensitive subject for them both. It was only today they that finally brought up the subject.

"I don't care. My parents were _worth_ something. They were important in the world, unlike yours. Your parents made it worse."

"Fuck you, Potter."

"I'm only stating the truth. How can you _live_ like that?"

Now it was Draco's turn to try and break the knife in half with his hand. "What I live like is none of your business, Potter. And my parents _are_ worth something. Just because yours were killed doesn't mean you have to hate mine."

"Your parents helped the Dark Lord. Therefore they helped in the plan of killing my parents."

"I don't give a bloody hell about what they did or didn't do. Your parents are dead, Potter, get over it! I have absolutely nothing to do with it!"

"YOU DIDN'T STOP THEM!"

"I WAS ONLY A BABY, YOU BLOODY IDIOT!"

"Ugh. I hate you."

"I hate you too. Feel better?"

"No." Harry stabbed the knife into the table. The sharp tip was stuck in the surface of wood. Draco couldn't help himself, and he jumped. "You could've stopped them when your father decided to try and kill me in the Department of Mysteries."

"I wouldn't care if he killed you." Of course, that was the biggest lie ever created. Draco would've cursed the Dark Lord and his father to the ground in order to stop them from going, but sadly, that was impossible. It would take someone with great courage to stand up to Lucius Malfoy. Draco didn't have that courage. Besides, wanting to curse his father didn't make much sense when he was trying to defend him at this precise moment.

"I know you wouldn't care. I just meant that you could've stopped it from bloody happening! A lot of things could've been prevented, and nothing would have happened to y--"

"You're only mad that you're godfather was killed. You're blaming it on me, because there's no one else to blame! You can't admit that it was your fault! Plenty of things could've happened to me if I tried to stop it!"

"It wasn't my fault!" Green eyes blazed angrily.

"Yes it was! You think I didn't find out about what happened down in the Department of Mysteries? Before you oh-so-cheerfully locked my father in Azkaban, he told me about it. About how your godfather was killed, about how you were tricked into going there because you thought he was in danger. When in fact he was safe at his hom--"

"SHUT UP!" Harry shoved Draco hard in the side, so that he stumbled into another desk and hit it forcefully against the edge. A burning, painful sensation followed that, and Draco's eyes moved to narrow at Harry dangerously.

"I'm only stating the truth," he said, his voice low and void of emotion. Even so, his words echoed across the classroom, as if thousands of others were waiting in silence to hear them. Harry hadn't expected to have his own words thrown back at him, and he stood there, watching Draco with abhorrence.

"I hate you," Harry repeated. He turned back to the table, pulling the knife out of the wood and beginning to cut again. Draco, instead, stayed where he was leaning against the other desk, his eyes observing Harry carefully. This wasn't going at all like he would've favored. He didn't want to be arguing with Harry; he wanted to be talking nicely with him. He didn't want to be pushed around; he'd rather be pushed up against a rather nice wall. He didn't want to talk about his parents; he wanted to snog this Gryffindor senseless. That was all, and Harry was too emotional to think that any word from Draco might be a nice one.

"I didn't mean for it to go this far," Draco whispered hardly audibly, standing up to walk back over to the table Harry was working at. Each step made the pain increase in his side, and he wondered idly if Harry meant to push him that hard. The boy looked over at him, and for once Draco didn't know what that look meant.

"Whatever, I don't care about anything anymore." It seemed as though Harry had heard him, and even decided to respond. How kind.

"I'm sure you care about something still…"

"Why are you acting like this, Malfoy?"

"Because…"

"Because why? You've decided to make up for the years of your heartlessness?"

Draco seethed inside, wishing that things could be much easier than this. Perhaps if he hadn't been born into the family of Malfoys, things would roll much easier with a Potter than how it was rolling now.

"Maybe," the Slytherin countered back harshly, "If that's too much to handle, then I'll stop trying." Harry's eyes narrowed suspiciously; doubtfully.

"You haven't been trying to do anything other than bitch at and insult me."

"Maybe my way of trying is to keep it hidden. Lord knows what would happen if I said something _nice_."

"How can you expect to get anything across if you keep it hidden?"

_That was a good point. But why would he care if I wanted to be nice or not? He bloody hates me and will never think anything more of a relationship._

"Because you wouldn't care."

"You're right," Harry declared suddenly. He sounded like he was correcting himself from saying something different. It only made Draco more confused as to what was happening.

The exasperating silence passed through them again, and before they knew it, they were finished with cutting and separating the ingredients and were now heading over to the stack of dirty cauldrons. The look of them confirmed that they'd be here for a lot longer.

That's when Snape decided to walk in to check on them. Surprisingly, the normally pessimistic and discourteous professor didn't say anything. He merely observed the room, checking to see if they did the job correctly, eyed them for a bit longer, and exited the class again. The bloody git was starting to get on Draco's nerves. Maybe McGonagall would be his new favorite professor. Someday, at least.

Between him and Harry at the moment, well, he supposed they were on fairly better terms. He figured that the subject of their parents or relatives would never come up again, considering how much it riled them up. He also guessed that they wouldn't be talking to each other unless it was necessary. Frankly, this behavior was irritating Draco, and he wanted to say something to Harry that would make him feel better. Of course, that probably meant being friendly. Oh well, hell had broken loose anyway.

"So… do you scrub cauldrons often?" Draco was desperate for something, and that was the only lousy question he could think of asking.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Harry, unlike Draco, sounded more restless as the time passed. They both had rags and were scrubbing at the rusty cauldrons. In Harry's case, the job was going by much more smoothly.

"Nothing, I'm just curious."

"Curious my arse."

"I'm only trying to start up a conversation."

"Well stop it, why don't you?"

"Fine." Draco rolled his eyes, and didn't speak until they were nearly finished. Snape had entered the room and said they were free to go. Both the boys weren't very surprised to see that it was lunchtime already.

Sighing and brushing himself off, Draco stood up and looked down at the resting Harry. He was cross legged on the floor, his hands positioning him so he could keep himself up from behind. "Are you going to get up?"

"Sure, I will sometime." Harry wore an expression of thoughtfulness. There was no uncertainty that it was another one of the Gryffindor's stupid daydreams.

That's when Draco thought of something quite clever. He couldn't think of anything more he'd rather have happen, and what was he risking? It wasn't as if they had a friendship to lose. Smirking, he rolled his eyes again. The boy would get up in a second or two.

And that he did.

And so Draco whisked by the boy, slipping his wand out and hiding it beneath the sleeve of his robe. A small charm was muttered, and Harry tripped.

How lucky it was that he happened to stumble right onto Draco. It might've been obvious that the cunning Slytherin did this on purpose, but could you blame him when he was stuck in a room with Harry? He hadn't gotten _any_ physical contact besides that shove.

It seemed like it happened in slow motion. Harry teetered, as if deciding if he should either hit the floor or fall onto Draco, and in the end, he chose Draco. Harry's body fell against Draco's rather roughly, his hands gripping the sides of Draco's arms as to keep himself from tipping. For some strange reason, (well, Draco _did_ know a reason, but he wished it had been otherwise) Harry moved his head quickly enough so that it wouldn't touch any part of Draco.

Briefly, Draco caught the scent of Harry's hair, the feeling of his strong hands on him… and the wonderfully warm sensation that shot through him. Draco knew he'd only get this from Harry; his obsession. Smiling some, either out of happiness or because he was feigning a smirk, he grabbed onto Harry's arms to steady him. "I'd be careful of where I landed if I were you."

Harry jerked away, and the feeling was instantly lost. Draco fought the urge to snatch the boy back into his arms. "You did that on purpose."

"No I didn't."

"Yes, you did. I heard you say something under your breath."

"No you didn't."

"YES I DID!"

"You must be hallucinating."

"Why, you bloody ferre-"

That's when Harry caught the humorous and slightly wanting look in Draco's expression. His green eyes widened behind his glasses. He backed away then, and eventually made his way around Draco so that he was near the classroom door.

"Is there something wrong?" Draco asked innocently. Ha, if he could be considered innocent in _anything_ he did.

"I…" Harry paused, stark out of words, "… you…"

"Yes?" Oh yes, Draco was making it extremely obvious for young Mr. Potter.

More silence as Harry stared at him. Draco couldn't tell if Harry was tilted more to the side of disgust or surprise. So, the Slytherin decided to check and see. Taking a step forward, he slowly brought up a hand that was supposed to have landed softly on Harry's shoulder. The boy instantly backed away before Draco's hand could reach him.

"Oh, you don't want me to touch you?"

"Stay away from me, Malfoy." Harry's voice was blank; maybe a bit cautious. And with that, he bolted out of the room, leaving a very confused and pleased Mr. Malfoy in his wake.


	4. A Wonderful Shock

It became harder to watch Harry over the next few days. Hard, because whenever he took a glance in his direction, the Gryffindor always knew. It was harder to _talk_ to him; because as they worked on their Potion assignment, the only thing they spoke of was their work. And it was harder to keep his _feelings_ for the boy from invading his every thought. If he wasn't careful, they'd end up capturing his thoughts if only to control his movements. He nearly shuddered at _that_ thought. There was no disbelieving that that wouldn't turn out well, if he bore in mind the memory of what happened during that particular after-class detention. Harry had bolted clear out the room when he finally understood what Draco was doing. 

That's probably why Harry wasn't talking to him as much as before. They weren't even exchanging _hateful_ words, and that was definitely something. Draco had been polite enough to not mention anything about the detention since it happened, but he still felt terrible that he couldn't think of anything else to bring up that wouldn't come out sounding too odd or out of character.

So, in the middle of a Potions class, when everyone was busy measuring out the delicate and several ingredients they had, Draco began to speak. He also noticed, with smug satisfaction, that the Longbottom boy truly seemed grateful for the job having been done for him. Anyway, that was besides what Draco cared about. It was all about Harry.

"How has life been?" He asked, and realized that it sounded as lousy as the last time he tried to start conversation.

Harry, in the meantime, paid no mind to him speaking. He continued measuring the ingredients, carefully avoiding eye contact, even every so often shifting away from him.

"Are you going to answer me? It isn't polite to ignore." Draco kept his eyes on the boy; hardly bothering to blink. Then Harry looked forward, and for a brief moment Draco thought he'd look over here, but instead the boy was hoping to catch his bloody best friend's eye. And that he did, and they both exchanged scowls. The nerve of them!

"Do you _like_ doing this to me?" Draco frowned, turning back to the stupid, pointless, futile, ludicrous job in front of him. Ah, that felt better. Insult the assignment, earn a happiness point.

"Yes." Harry finally responded, and Draco's happiness point was just as quickly deleted.

"Just to let you know, it makes me feel good." Draco smirked. If he wasn't getting his way, he'd _make_ it his way. Harry glanced sideways at the Slytherin, almost letting loose an I-can't-believe-you-just-used-that-line, sort of smile. A smile? This was a start.

"I'm sure it does." Harry said, sounding vacant again.

"No, really. Ignoring me makes it all the more exciting when you finally answer."

"'Course it does."

Draco's eyes watched Harry cautiously. The boy was quietly leveling out the crushed roots; pouring them into their cauldron when needed. He went on pretending that Draco wasn't there again, and the Slytherin began to tell that the boy looked a little sick. Harry's eyes were fogging, as if the bright emerald was vanishing and was being replaced by a pale green. Harry kept lifting a hand to rub at his eyes wearily behind his glasses. His hand then traveled up to rub the side of his head, like he was trying to calm a headache. He was also shifting (which was unnoticed by anyone else) on his feet, as if he couldn't stand to remain still.

Draco thought he might be nervous. But why nervous?

"What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing." Harry replied instantaneously. Draco arched an eyebrow.

"I highly doubt that."

"What would you know? You don't even know me!" Harry threw the next batch of ingredients in the cauldron. Draco glanced at it worriedly. His gaze lifted to the front of the class, where Snape was watching them like a bloody hawk. Couldn't that git leave them alone for once? It had only been _one_ outburst the other day. It wasn't going to happen again. Hopefully.

"I wasn't trying to be…" Draco paused and then took a fleeting look sideways. Weasley was watching him too. What the hell was wrong with everyone today? "… to be... mean." He finished, his voice barely a whisper so that no one else could hear him. He looked back at Weasley odd with an odd expression, trying to figure out what the frustrating redhead thought was wrong now.

"You're always bloody mean!"

"I wasn't mean yesterday."

"Don't even mention yesterday."

"Listen Potter, about yesterday…"

Draco smirked. Harry shot daggers at him. That made Draco shut up. He didn't enjoy receiving those sorts of looks from someone he really, really, adored. But _that_ wasn't going to change unless a miracle helped him in changing it.

"Why don't you want me to mention yesterday?" Draco asked curiously. Honestly, he wanted to know the reason.

"You just did it again, you stupid git."

Draco let out a frustrated sound. "Stop calling me that."

Harry seemed distracted as he spoke. "I can call you whatever I want."

"Stop it," Draco hissed through clenched teeth.

"Git."

"Idiot."

"Ferret."

"Scarhead."

"Dimwit."

"Jacka--"

Suddenly, Snape popped up behind them. It felt like the only thing Snape tried to do was apparate right when they least wanted him near. However, Draco knew he hadn't apparated. They just hadn't noticed when he started walking clear over to them in the middle of their bickering. "Would you like to finish that, Mr. Potter?" Snape drawled impatiently from behind. The professor made his way around their desk and glared at them both.

"No, professor." Harry answered dully. His mouth closed, fighting back the urge to retaliate using some rather rude words.

"Good, I would assure you not to. Though I'm afraid I told you both that you weren't going to be repeating the other day's performance." One greasy, pale hand was holding onto the edge of the desk. Snape was probably imagining how he could strangle the boy-who-lived. Draco hoped desperately that nothing humiliating was going to happen. He couldn't believe Snape had turned so _against_ him from the first day of school. It was devastating.

"It wasn't a repeat of our performance, Professor!" Draco objected.

"Bickering is just as troublesome as violence."

"But that's not righ-" Draco kept trying. He wasn't in the mood for the professor's evil attitude on this particular day.

"Mr. Malfoy! Do not speak when I am speaking! Both of you; go up to the front of the room. Inform your classmates of the importance of good class behavior." Snape's voice was sounding _very_ edgy now, and Harry and Draco both knew not to test him, or they'd end up getting another unjust detention.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Harry complained.

"NOW! HURRY IT UP!" Snape bellowed. Every student turned their head to look at them. A few of them looked surprised over how they could get in trouble once again with the professor. The Slytherins looked oblivious over how that could've happened to Draco. After all, he was always well behaved.

Snape led the way to the front of the class; Harry storming behind him, and Draco moving as slowly as possible. What were they supposed to do? Go over the rules? He sighed, stopping and turning around to face the questioning expressions of the audience. Harry did the same, looking deathly irritated.

"Go ahead." Snape ordered from behind his desk. He had taken a seat, his hand wrapped around a feather quill.

Draco looked over at Harry, letting him know that he wasn't going to be the one to start this stupid speech first. "The rules." Harry began through gritted teeth. His fists were clenched at his sides, and he had looked at Draco with so much detestation that it sought to make Draco sick. "Are to focus in class on only the assignment and the professor's lectures. When you start the project, that's all you are to think about. You can't talk, or say anything mean to your partner."

"You can't call them bad names, or say things that'll make them slap you." Harry finished quietly, looking horribly unhappy.

"And you, Mr. Malfoy?"

Noticing regrettably that his hands were starting to shake again, Draco stayed silent when Snape addressed him. He didn't want to listen. He didn't want Harry to be angry at him. He didn't want any of this to happen. He was tired of it. He was tired of everything and everyone.

"Mr. Malfoy!" Snape eyed him with his dark, piercing eyes, and Draco turned around, looking nothing but grave. He faced the professor and looked at him darkly before turning back around to face the class. Snape recognized that certain Slytherin look, and he stood up from his desk in order to stop it, but it was too late. Draco already gave the class a rather helpful rule.

"Never call your professor a greasy git behind their back, or else they'll end up fucking with you and everyone else who doesn't deserve it." Draco smirked as everyone stared at him.

It was silent after that.

They were probably wondering if they were dreaming or if the usually polite Draco _really_ said that in front of Snape's face. After the shock subsided, they were trying to stifle their laughter. Harry looked at him, his eyes wide and his mouth open, and Snape's face turned a brilliant shade of purple. His eyes looked ready to bulge out of his head.

"Mr. Malfoy, you will meet me after class. No excuses." A vein pulsed in Snape's forehead. The pale Slytherin nodded casually before heading cheerfully back to the desk with Harry. Amazingly, he felt in much better sorts; now that he had let that out. People were holding their hands up to their mouths in order to choke back their laughter. Even Harry seemed to be swallowing back a laugh. What else could they all do? Draco Malfoy, Snape's star student, just insulted his favorite professor in front of the entire Potions class. It was a day to remember for the rest of their lives.

"I can't believe you did that, Malfoy." Harry whispered, sounding friendly enough so that Draco was caught by surprise. Draco grinned.

"I couldn't help myself."

"Maybe you aren't so mean."

Well, if saying terrible things about his professor made Harry think he _wasn't_ mean, then he'd have to do it more often. It was strange how Harry worked.

"I told you I wasn't." Draco responded offhandedly.

The bell suddenly rang to signal the end of class, and they were both startled out of their small discussion. Draco knew he'd be in for hell once everyone left the room. Harry instantly started packing up his things.

"Have fun."

"With what, Malfoy?" He looked up from stuffing things in his schoolbag; dark hair falling into his eyes. God, how could the boy look so damn innocent?

"Whatever it is that you do."

"Oh, thanks. You too." Then Harry stopped to think over what he just said. "I mean… good luck I guess."

Draco rolled his eyes.

Harry smiled briefly, and then left with a small, hardly-even-worth-to-be-considered wave. He joined up with Ron and Hermione before he exited the door, and before Draco tore his gaze away to look up at the approaching Snape.

Harry had _better _treat him better if he was going to end up scrubbing more cauldrons.


	5. It Was Nott

Draco was delighted to finally get out of that dreadful Potions classroom two hours later. He defined it as _dreadful_ only now because he had defined Snape as being a greasy git just a few hours ago. It was nice, actually, to be able to hate something that you should've a long time ago. So this is what added to Draco's delight. 

Oh yes, and it was the beginning of a weekend full of nothing but enjoyment and relaxation. He had finished all of his essays, even the three foot long Transfiguration essay requested by McGonagall. Draco was free to do _whatever_ he wanted.

Harry better have straightened up his stubborn Gryffindor attitude. Draco had been on his hands and knees for two entire hours, cleaning the dungeon floor even when it was pointless. No one would notice his work when they came back to class on Monday. _Harry_ had better notice something; either the sparkling floor or him. Though Draco preferred it to be him.

Draco rounded a corner, on his way to the library to retrieve a few books for light reading. Maybe a book on seducing an enemy would prove helpful? Well, that was the _easy_ part. He only wanted Harry to trust him at this point. Trust; it was the main key in a relationship. Of course Draco was already thinking this far ahead! This was Harry, after all.

Footsteps soon led him down another empty corridor; a shortcut to get to the library quickly from the dungeons. Then, his footsteps faded into voices, and he recognized one of them right away. Frantically, he ducked behind a tapestry.

"I can't!" It was the voice that couldn't belong to anyone other than Harry. Draco snuck a peek from behind the tapestry, but could only catch the backside of Harry. He couldn't even decipher who the other person might be, for he couldn't see them _or_ recognize their voice.

"Why not?" The other voice snapped.

"I… can't. I don't like you. Um…" Harry scrambled frantically for words; his voice choked and unsure. Draco's heart skipped a beat.

"You can't give me one measly little kiss?"

"No… I can't. Please, just leave me alone!"

"Screw you, Potter!" The voice shouted, and the next thing Draco saw was Harry getting tossed against a nearby wall; the other person pinning him there. Damn it all; Draco couldn't make out who it was, but he was definitely sure that he was starting to panic.

As stealthily as he could, Draco crept out from behind the tapestry, making his way back down the hall in the same direction in which he came. Luckily, both Harry and his assaulter hadn't seen him. Then again, he had to help Harry! He couldn't just run away like his usual cowardly self. If he went crawling for help from someone else, who knew what would happen to Harry then.

So he did the only thing he could think of doing without making any more difficulty than there already was. He started running as swiftly as he could; his legs carrying him so he was bolting down the hallway. If someone were out to kill him; people wouldn't be surprised if the person had sent a terrifying creature after Draco. It seemed that way.

Then he ran straight into the assaulter, sending them both crashing onto the floor; creating a rather painful impact on his part. He could hear an 'Oof' from the other person, and he slid partly across the floor; biting his lip in order to keep himself from swearing out loud.

"Oww, what the fuck?" The other muttered from their position on the floor. Getting pummeled by Draco seemed to have rattled their skull a bit.

Groaning, Draco pushed himself up from the floor and brought his hand up to rub at his sore shoulder. Then, the reason why he had done this in the first place paraded back into his mind. How the hell could he forget in one bloody second?

Harry.

Harry! Draco looked over at the wall he had seen him last, and noticed him still standing there with his mouth open. That was the second time today. Maybe he'd break a record; the most amount of times to make Harry stare open-mouthed at him.

He was looking from the person writhing on the floor and then back to Draco in utter shock. Part of his school robes had been untucked and a little wrinkled in the front. Draco instantly brought his eyes over to the person he had knocked to the floor. With closer inspection, he finally identified who it was.

It was Theodore Nott.

"What… the hell?" Draco mumbled; almost as though he were noticing something remarkably unbelievable for the first time. Maybe he was.

And maybe he wanted to tear apart Nott limb from limb and lock him away in a random confined room in the Malfoy Manor to let him starve. Ah, what a wonderful idea.

"Malfoy?" Harry asked stupidly.

"Who else would it be?" Draco replied, sarcasm dripping in his tone. He instantly wished he hadn't used any; he was supposed to making it so Harry liked him _better_. Wincing from that mistake; he stood up and slowly made his way over to Nott. He would've never believed that another Slytherin beside himself would like a Gryffindor, especially Harry. But violating Harry like that royally pissed Draco off; housemate or not. Nott didn't _like_ Harry, he was using him for his own pleasure.

"What in the bloody everlasting hell is your problem?" Draco hissed through his teeth. Nott stared up at Draco as if he'd gone insane, and began to push himself up clumsily from the floor.

"_Draco?_" Nott questioned.

"Of course it's me, you idiot!" What was it with everyone? Just because he happened to do something no one expected; it didn't mean it wasn't really _him_ doing it.

"You didn't answer my question," Draco snapped furiously, stepping over Nott as if he were ready to pummel him further into the ground. Seeing as Nott had always been terrified of Draco before, much like the rest of his house, he scrambled out of the pale boy's way. He still hadn't gotten off of the floor, so he looked much like someone trying to scuttle away from an approaching sea creature.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Nott shouted.

"You know what I'm talking about!" Draco retaliated, his voice growing louder and more agitated than before. The other boy brought his hand up to wipe nervously at his forehead and through his hair.

"SO!" Draco asked vociferously.

"What's wrong with you Draco!" Nott shrieked.

"Nothing, I just don't appreciate seeing someone from my own house doing something so _stupid_ to someone else. Are you kidding me; how dim-witted are you!"

"What…?" Nott scrambled further away from Draco, his eyes wide and his eyes darting around him to see if there was some way to escape. Draco looked ready to kill. "… what… you never cared about this kind of stuff before."

Draco's eyes blazed, and he rushed forward just as Nott got the nerve to stand. A second later, Nott was slammed against the opposite wall, Draco's hands holding him up against it. Well, this seemed familiar. Only this was far from sexual harassment.

"You can't tell me what I do and do _not_ care about. You know nothing about me, Nott, and you are to never bother Harry like this again," Draco whispered dangerously.

"I don't have to listen to you, dammit! It's only fucking Harry Potter, for god sake!"

Draco eyes narrowed. "I don't think you heard me." A frightening sort of smirk crossed Draco's features, and he backed up only to throw Nott to the side. The boy stumbled, and then stared at Draco; bewildered. "Don't you ever do something like this again. It's sick." A look of revulsion replaced Draco's smirk, and he stood there staring at Nott.

"You… you're crazy, Draco. I don't know what's happened to you, but… you'll have prices to pay, you know?" Nott's eyes flickered from his housemate, back over to Harry, and then he turned around and took off down the hall. Draco stood there for what seemed like ten more silent minutes. His hands were dropped at his sides, his fingers fidgeting; much like someone who was itching to draw out their wand so they could finish the job. His gray eyes were storming, and his face was set in a scowl.

It was only when a voice was heard behind him that he snapped out of his fantasies of killing Nott. How _dare_ he do that to Harry. _He_ was even decent enough to not do something like that.

"What… was that, Malfoy?" Blankly, Draco turned back around to face a very bemused Harry. He was faltering near the wall; still staring, though his mouth was closed this time.

"Nott was being a fucking prick, that's all." Draco said this as if it were a normal everyday thing. He had _never_ done something like that to one of his own housemates though.

"Yeah… but why did you help me?"

"Did you want me to stand there and watch?" Draco asked.

"No…"

"Then that's why I helped you."

"But… _you_ helped me, Malfoy."

Draco rolled his eyes, distractedly trying to smooth out his robes. Again, someone else just couldn't believe it was him who had done this. Was it too hard to believe that Draco might like Harry? That he might be doing this to get Harry to like him? That he might actually _care_ about another human being? "Yes, I did. Surprised?" He replied indifferently.

"Yes."

"Why should you be? You already know how I feel." Draco brought his eyes up to meet Harry's uneasy pair. He was about ready to say something in order to get that bloody confused, surprised, and absolutely naïve expression off of the Gryffindor's face. But… he just couldn't.

"Malfoy…" Harry looked uncomfortable about something.

"Yes?"

All of a sudden, Harry stepped forward and grabbed Draco, embracing him in a rather firm hug. Draco was caught off guard; so much to even let out a startled gasp. "Um…"

Draco was struggling with what to say, as well as the capability of breathing. He couldn't even lift up his arms, if he wanted to return the hug, but frankly, all of this was just fine. Harry wasn't backing away this time; he wasn't bolting down the hallway, and he wasn't hating him. Harry was _hugging_ him, and _he_ was the one to do so before Draco. Draco felt about ready to slide onto the floor and melt.

Regrettably, Harry pulled out of it about ten seconds later. He had a small smile on his face, looking a bit embarrassed about doing that out of the blue. Draco smirked; clearly happy, and clearly wanting to seize Harry back into his arms.

"I just wanted to… thank you, for helping me and all…" Harry shuffled his feet; looking down at the floor.

"It was my pleasure," Draco rejoined. "If you need help with anything else, let me know."

Harry looked up at Draco again. The unease was still there, but so was something else. Draco wasn't concentrating well enough on figuring it out, for he was falling head over heels for Harry even more.

"Ok… well, I better get going now. Have a nice weekend."

Draco grinned and nodded. "You too, Potter."

They exchanged glances; one in which confirmed that they'd be getting along a little bit better than before, and then they both turned around, making their way down opposite halls. Draco didn't care about those useless books now; this day was by far a fine one.


	6. Walk to the Library

The Monday following the rather wonderful weekend when Harry had hugged him; was a good one. And Draco wasn't one to be considered a Monday person. He hated getting up in the morning, he hated being talked to in the morning, he hated doing schoolwork, and he hated attending classes. The only class he _did_ look forward to was Potions. No one around needed to ask why by now; Nott seemed to have told the entire Slytherin house. Not soon after that, the rumor passed around through the other houses, and then eventually around the entire school population. Even the bloody ghosts, paintings, and statues seemed to know about it. Draco was incredibly angry when he found this out on Sunday. All he did was tell Nott off for attacking Harry. 

It's not like he confessed his undying love for the boy.

But, as much as he was angry about this little detail of what was going on in Hogwarts, he was happy that it was Monday for only one reason. He'd get to see Harry in Potions class. He hadn't seen the Gryffindor all weekend; besides during meals in the Great Hall, in which he was sitting all the way across the room. _That_ certainly wasn't good enough.

So, it wasn't a surprise when he walked into the dungeon classroom with a smile on his face. Yet, it faltered as soon as he saw everyone's eyes on him. Including Snape's. Including Harry's.

Clearing his throat; he tried to act as though nothing was wrong here. He always looked forward to this class; his smile meant nothing more than that to anyone else. Well, the Slytherins did look absolutely infuriated and betrayed. The Gyffindors looked infuriated as well, but looked more disgusted than they did betrayed. Snape looked solemn. Harry, well, he looked wonderful, as always. Maybe if it weren't for the troubled look on his face, then he'd look a tiny bit better, if that was even possible.

In what seemed like ten minutes, he finally found the way to his seat beside Harry, and sat down quietly. He set his bag on the floor, let his hands rest in his lap, and stared at the surface of the desk distractedly; as if inspecting a crack. He thought that he'd been quiet when he'd done all of this, but apparently he was the loudest in here. Everyone was silent; watching him and waiting for the confirmation of the rumor being true.

Fortunately, Snape spoke up, clearing his throat just as Draco had done, and began speaking about what they were to be doing today. Everyone's attention was brought back to the professor, and Draco was finally able to relax. None of his hearing was being used to listen to Snape though. He wanted to get things settled with Harry first.

"Would you know what all that attention was for?" Draco asked, his voice barely a whisper. He didn't want to end up getting caught by the professor again; only to get a third punishment. He'd end up slapping Snape if that happened.

"You know what it was for, Malfoy," Harry responded quickly. His eyes kept on the professor; eager to pay attention so that he wouldn't get in trouble either.

Draco attempted to keep an annoyed sigh back. Why did everyone make such a big deal out of things that he did? Why did they always rely on him to give them the information on what really happened? Why did they need to watch him continuously, until that day came? He didn't do anything _too_ worth recognizing! They all needed to learn not to assume things.

"Because I shook Nott up a little for doing stuff to you the other day?" Draco asked innocently, his head tilted so that he could get a better look at Harry.

Harry stayed quiet; though his fingers were twitching to move and tap against the desktop.

"Is it?" Draco pestered.

"Yes, it is!" Harry hissed.

"Why weren't they looking at you then?"

"They were before you walked in."

Well, he had a good point there. Draco couldn't expect everyone to be waiting for him to walk in. Harry had been a part of this rumor too; so he was another main attraction. If Draco had known that something like standing up for Harry would grab him so much attention, he probably would've done it when he actually _wanted_ the attention. But now, he certainly didn't want it. This was supposed to be something of his own; not some feeling that was open for the public to sort through and gossip over. The Slytherin frowned, going back to sulking instead of pestering Harry; plainly still not listening to Snape's lecture.

"Allowing for the halfway finished Potion to settle, you'll be spending the rest of the period studying and writing an essay about the Truth Serum. You will be working with your partners or alone, and will either go back to your common rooms or to the library in order to work on them. Trust me," Snape paused to sweep his eyes over the room, "I can find out if you've been working on the proper assignment or not. Now walk up here and form a straight line; I'll give you all passes so that I won't be responsible for you getting caught by the that dreadful cat or its master."

There was a burst of chattering and chairs moving against the floor as everyone scrambled up to stand in line. Most of them were smiling from ear to ear; knowing that they wouldn't have to spend the class under Snape's stare, but others were a bit unwary. Of course, those were probably the students who were hoping they'd get away with _not_ working on the assignment. Idiots.

Draco was the last to stand up; seeing as he wasn't paying attention to the other students getting out of their seats. It was Harry who snapped him out of his bitter thoughts.

"Malfoy, we need to get passes." Harry stared down at him with a peculiar expression, unsure of whether to tug on his sleeve or not. Draco almost cursed himself for looking up, because a tug on his sleeve was something he wouldn't have minded. Any close contact coming from Harry was exceptional.

"What passes?" Draco asked vacantly.

"The passes to let us walk around the school." Harry rolled his eyes.

"For what?"

"So we can go to the library to work on homework. Weren't you listening at all?"

"Not really," Malfoy said heedlessly; standing up to join Harry near the end of the line.

"You're hopeless, you know that?"

Draco grinned. Was this Harry being friendly? If so, he quite liked it. "I know."

During the next five minutes, Draco stood there happily, actually looking forward to doing homework for once in his life. If Harry was there, it was bound to be more interesting.

"Mr. Malfoy," Snape summoned a piece of parchment out of thin air, scribbling his name on it and handing it forward. "I trust there won't be any problems this time."

"No, professor," Draco answered gladly; which earned an him a cynical look from the greasy git. Without another word, Draco turned around and started walking back to the desk to collect his bag. Harry was already there waiting for him to hurry up.

"Oh, waiting for me now, are we?" Draco asked, his lips turning up into a smirk.

"What are partner's for?" Harry replied. _Well, he must've woken up on the right side of the bed this morning_, Draco thought, _one good deed and he's actually treating me like a friend_.

"Partners now, are we?" Draco couldn't resist adding his smarts to Harry's comment.

Harry looked slightly confused. It took him a few seconds to finally figure out what it meant. Moments like these made Draco ask himself how he could like someone that was so slow in figuring out some things. Ah, it must be the entire 'opposites attract' phrase taking effect.

The Gryffindors eyes widened, "What? …We're not partners…"

"I was only joking, Potter." It was his turn to roll his eyes. They were making their way out of the crowded classroom; some students were still eying them suspiciously. Evidently, Harry had already decided they were both going to go work in the library together.

Then, out of nowhere, a Gyffindor jumped from behind them and blocked their path; his arms stretched out wide from his sides. Draco nearly jumped out of his skin; something was seriously going wrong with everyone. From jumping and popping out of nowhere, to the staring, to the weird behavior. Draco scowled. "What do you want?"

"Hi Seamus, what's up?" Harry questioned hesitantly.

"Oi, Harry. What's going on with you and ferret boy here?" Seamus, now placed in the category with the other annoying, hyper-active Gryffindors on Draco's list, was grinning from ear to ear. Draco kept on scowling, hoping that'd scare him off.

"… nothing's going on… why?" Harry was beginning to sound anxious. Dear god, couldn't anyone leave them alone?

"Who are you paired with?" Draco snapped irritably. Seamus looked to him, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Your monkey of a friend, Crabbe. Why, miss him?" The Irish accented boy cracked a stupid grin.

"Go back and find him. Now!" Draco ordered, pointing behind him to the crowd of students; whom were mostly heading back to their common rooms. "Or I'll smack you!"

"Ah, gonna smack me now, eh? Didn't know you had a little thing for me too." Draco's eyes began to blaze at that, and he would've rushed forward if it weren't for Harry being present. "But anyway, we're all going back to our common rooms to work. No need for the library."

"We'll be working in the library, Seamus," Harry spoke up uncomfortably. He was used to this sort of behavior from his housemate, and he was desperate to leave as quick as possible.

"Why? Is it true?" Seamus asked, his eyes forming two round, hazel circles.

"Is what true!" Draco snapped.

"Shut up, you! I didn't ask you to interrupt!"

"Why… you little.." Draco clenched his fists at his sides. Though, with Snape watching everyone leave, and with everyone else still around, he couldn't do much of anything except wait for Harry to hurry up with this.

"No, it's not," Harry responded abruptly.

"It's not?" Seamus asked, sounding a bit disappointed.

"No, we're just going to work in the library. Nothing at all is wrong with that." Harry informed, as if he were reassuring a child. Seamus's eyes lost their wide, inquisitive condition.

"That's bloody hell right. Now go off. Scatter!" Draco commanded pointedly, his eyes showing nothing but irritation by this point. Seamus gave him a 'look' and then decided to drop the questioning.

"Guess I'll see ya later, Harry. I get the feeling you're not telling me everything… or at least _ferret_ boy here isn't… but, you know… talk to you when you get back." Seamus gave an enthusiastic wave and rushed back to join another one of the Gryffindors on their way away from the Potions classroom.

"Who the hell was that?" Draco inquired thoughtlessly.

"That was Seamus Finnigan," Harry replied, untouched by Draco's harshness. They both started walking again, and Draco was keen to look back and see what sort of gossip that boy was spreading around now. And he did for a second, but the boy was nowhere in sight.

"Well, when you see him when we're done, tell him to keep himself out of our business." Draco huffed indignantly.

"Our business?" Harry asked.

"Yes…" All of a sudden, Draco did something that clearly didn't pass through his mind so that it could give permission first. "You know… this business." He furtively brought up his hand, grabbing Harry's own in a gentle hold. For a moment, his thoughts were dead focused on the warm feeling he got from entwining his fingers through Harry's, but the moment didn't last for very long. A smirked played across his face as Harry stopped in mid-step, his hand jerking away from Draco's; his eyes wide in shock.

"What's wrong… I thought…" Draco was trying hard not to laugh at the expression on Harry's face. He didn't know why he was so amused; Harry had pulled away from his touch! Great, _now_ he felt bad. "…You wouldn't mind?"

Harry's mouth opened, then closed again, and then opened. There was no doubting he was trying to find the words to say. Then, he gave up entirely and turned to head towards the library again. "What's wrong?" Draco asked, catching up to him in a quick stride.

Harry whipped around to face the worried Slytherin. "You just held my hand!"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Everything! I don't know what you're trying to pull, but I can't have you keep doing this! I'm trying to be nice, but you just seem to want more than that!" Harry looked at Draco meaningfully; not angry or irritated… just confused and unknowing of how to handle this.

"But…"

Harry objected, wanting to get the point across, "Malfoy, just… stop this, okay?"

Draco's expression dropped. He tried to stay calm; tried to stay casual, but it was getting difficult. His heart throbbed painfully, but he responded all the same, in order to make the look on Harry's face go away. "Alright… I suppose I can try." And with that, Harry stared at Draco for one second longer, wondering if he was being serious with his words, and then they both started walking the rest of the way to the library.

Draco didn't think he could feel any more miserable.


	7. There's Always A First

No time was wasted when they arrived in the empty library. The tables were clean of books and students, the shelves stocked with old, dusty books, and the faint morning light shone through the large windows. It was perfect for someone who needed to be alone. So, Draco left. 

He made his way past Harry and into the confinement of the darkened shelves. He couldn't stand to be by the boy any longer than that; or else he would've broken down right then and there. And Malfoys did _not_ break down. If one generation ultimately happened to do so, then they did it privately.

Someplace where they couldn't see the guilty and somewhat sympathetic look from the person they only wanted to be loved by.

"Malfoy?" Harry called, sounding confused, though there was a hint of knowing in that voice. "Well… I'll get us a table… okay?" There was no response.

Draco was in the back of the library, searching for books in which they could use for information on their essays. As he was, he didn't speak nor glance back at Harry to glimpse at which table it was. He was hurting. Hurting let to depression. Depression led to anger. Anger led to his usually controlled temper; only his temper flared at the present moment.

It wasn't hard to guess what caused all these emotions. Harry. Harry and his bloody intent on keeping Draco from showing any sort of affection. So maybe the boy didn't have quite the same feelings as Draco did? It didn't mean he had to announce it in his face; right when he was feeling in the better of moods. But… why couldn't Harry understand? Draco was trying so hard and…

It just wasn't working.

Boring his eyes onto the book titles and running his fingers along the spines; he struggled desperately to keep his mind on homework.

Harry, on the other hand, was sitting down at an easily found table near one of the corners of the library. He had taken out his quill, parchment, and ink so that he could bring himself to concentrate and start on at least one paragraph of the knowledge he already had.

Back on the other side of the room, Draco had piled at least three books underneath his arm already. He figured that was enough text to begin with, so he slowly started making his way back over to Harry through the several other shelves. The anger was deepening with each step, and he found that he was trying so hard to tame it that he was starting to shake again. This was a habit he was beginning to really loathe.

Suddenly, the books slipped from his grasp while he was walking down one of the narrow rows. They made a loud, echoing noise throughout the library when they hit the floor, and that seemed to be the time for Draco to snap. He had jumped considerably at the sound, and usually Draco wasn't one to be scared so easily. Not before he had been obsessing over Harry…

"Bloody fucking hell, what else can go wrong?" He cursed darkly, bending down to take the books back into his arms. The pages were bent, having landed strewn upside down, and it appeared that the only thing these books wanted was to torture him more. "First the rumor, then Harry, then Harry's bloody fright of me…" His rambling soon transformed into a violent collecting of the library books. He nearly shoved them all on top of each other with the same loud sound they had made with the impact to the floor.

"Dammit! What the hell is wrong with these fucking things!" Draco was trying frantically to flatten a creased page; all the while speaking in a string of rude words. He knew that the librarian would get on his case if he didn't fix these books as quickly as possible.

Only two more attempts were made before he gave up and threw one of the books clear across the row he was standing in; the book landing with a hard thud against another shelf. Draco wasn't going to screw around with a stupid book just to make someone else happy. What was the point!

He struggled with the other books he had dropped onto the floor, which he had dropped again in his urge to throw the other book, and he soon felt his eyes starting to burn. This had to be a breakdown… he never felt this way before. A cry of anger, or maybe it was a choked sob, left his lips as he became unbelievably impatient with everything he was trying to do. And it was all over something as simple as picking up books from the floor!

"I can't believe this!" Draco's last words were louder, more choked than before. He quit the simple task entirely after another minute, and instead sank to the floor. His hands were shaking terribly now, and he couldn't even keep them still enough to push the straying blonde strands away from his face.

Apparently, and fortunately, the librarian didn't seem to be present to find him like this. She would've been running over as fast as she could in order to see what happened to her precious books by now.

However, it was worse to have Harry find him like this. Draco's back was leaning against a bookcase, one leg stretched out and the other brought up to his chest. One of his shaking arms was laying on that knee, his face buried inside of it. The other hand was trying to sort through his hair, as if it would assist in calming him. And when Harry finally peeked around the corner of another bookcase to see what all the noise was about, the hand had moved from Draco's hair to rest on the other knee. It had been brought up to his chest beside the other. No one, and he had been glad for that, had seen him look so miserable before, and that was only because he never _had_ felt this miserable.

"…Malfoy?" Harry asked quietly; cautiously, and his eyes caught sight of the books thrown on the floor. His emerald gaze soon traveled back up to the distraught-- No, _very_ distraught -- Slytherin, who still had his head buried in his arms; his body shaking. "Are you alright?"

"Of course I'm not alright!" Draco snapped harshly, his voice forced to merely cover up his need to start crying.

"What happened?" Harry asked hesitantly. He took a few steps closer to Draco, so that he was standing only a few feet away from the side of the other boy.

"Nothing."

"I could hear you with these books all the way from where I was sitting. It couldn't have been nothing." _And you're shaking uncontrollably like someone who's just lost it. Are you crying, Malfoy_? Harry thought to himself, wishing he could ask, but not daring to bring it up.

"You wouldn't care. You're just fucking Harry Potter. The last thing you'd want to do is save me, so save _yourself_ from wasting _my_ time and leave me the fuck alone."

"Wha--" Harry started; his expression hurt. Even though Draco wasn't paying any heed to what he was saying, owing to his temper, the Slytherin still knew that his words were most likely cold. "I wasn't planning on saving you from anything." The Gryffindor's tone was hard now; void of emotion, except for the obvious irritation.

"Then leave!" Draco shouted as he finally looked up at Harry. It was clearly a furious glare being shot in the Gryffindor's direction, but Harry noticed that Draco's eyes were red around the edges. There weren't any tears, but he was sure that they were close to being shed.

"I…" Harry stood there, now unsure of what to do. His angry tone was shot down and replaced with the same unease. "… I'm sorry Malfoy."

"Sorry! What the hell is that supposed to do to help me?" Draco kept that glare locked on Harry, daring him to speak again.

"For… doing this to you… and…" The words came out slow and were carefully picked over. Draco quickly came to stand during the time Harry was taking to try and find an answer to his question.

"Well, you know what? What's the point anymore? It's my fault for waiting so long before letting you know what my problem with you is. So, of course, you have _nothing_ to be sorry for." Draco crossed his arms over his chest as he stood there, trying to look as composed as he could. It wasn't working.

"But, Malfoy, I--"

"Whatever you have to say; save it for someone who cares. I'm through with caring." Draco winced. What was he doing? He was a nervous, terrified, fuming wreck, whose words were only geared by his temper. He didn't really mean these things. He'd never stop feeling for Harry, even now.

Harry stared at him then, his eyes searching Draco's and his expression unreadable. For several minutes, it felt like, they stood there like this.

Then Harry broke the silence and took a step forward. They weren't too far apart now… maybe enough to think that Harry would be getting a bit uncomfortable.

"Malfoy… can you listen to me just this once?" He asked quietly; almost as if he were trying to calm and soothe Draco. But Draco only stood there, glaring blankly at the boy in front of him. "I said I was sorry, and I meant it."

And before Draco could bite back with another rage-induced comeback, the most unexpected thing happened. Harry tentatively brought up a warm hand to rest on the side of Draco's cheek, his thumb tracing lightly over his skin, and his eyes still an unmoving gaze. And as Draco froze where he was standing, his heart beginning to beat faster in his chest, Harry leaned in to press his lips gently onto the trembling Slytherin's own.


	8. Cold in the Dark

The brief moment replayed itself over and over again in his mind; each time the image gaining more wonderful and exciting details. Even though he was adding additional desires, it made the moment where Harry had kissed him no more or less savoring and absolutely… fantastic than it had already been. 

_When Harry's warm lips met his own; their intention as warm as the feeling, Draco had stood there, stock still and unexpectedly terrified. It was only when he felt Harry's hand lift to rest on the side of his waist, when he closed his eyes and returned the gentle kiss._

_His arms slowly moved to uncross from his chest, and he instead brought them up to lay flat against Harry's upper chest. Draco's lips pressed closer against the Gryffindor's; noting that the boy's lips tasted much sweeter than he imagined. And his intoxicating scent was welcoming; enticing. This_ was _bliss._

_A small moan, one of complete and utter pleasured content, emitted from low in Draco's throat. He hardly noticed it; his heart was beating too fast and his lips were too intent on feeling Harry's own soft pair._

_Then, maybe a moment too soon for his liking, Harry pulled away. Draco let out a faint whimper; already missing the contact, and his eyes fluttered open. His breathing came out quick, his body warm all over, and his cheeks flushed a light pink. He also took notice that his hands had ceased the shaking._

_His gray eyes, which were considerably lighter than they were previously, traveled up to meet Harry's bright emerald gaze. His cheeks were also quite flushed; his lips parted slightly so that he could allow his soft breathing to pass._

_"I hope that was… alright for me to do?" Harry's voice was somewhat hopeful, somewhat worried._

_"Do you really need me to answer that for you?" Draco responded, his tone much too lost and light than he would've liked. Yet, he couldn't really concentrate like a normal person when he was just kissed._

_Kissed by Harry. Harry Potter; _his _obsession…_

_And behind the bookshelves, a pair of dark eyes lurked, watching them; dangerous and threatening. Both Draco and Harry didn't even comprehend this as they parted, a bit timidly, and made their way back the table Harry had chosen; the fallen books now back in their hands._

_They weren't looking at each other, and their voices were as quiet as expected in the library, which just so happened to be silence. However, Draco _did _sneak a few glances in Harry's direction, and each time he made out a light smile playing across Harry's face. It was strange… they had kissed, and yet they were acting like two younger students who had just admitted they had a crush on each other. But in a way it was rather nice_.

And that's where the moment stopped playing, and then it started all over again. This was the original memory in which Draco would always have emblazoned in his mind, no matter how many simple things he fantasized to add. And it kept on recurring, much like Pansy's habit of stalking him wherever he went in the common room. Even now, as he was asleep on top of a pile of library books, he was re-living that one quick moment with Harry.

That was, until he was rudely interrupted.

It was a light tapping on his shoulder to start with, and since he was a light sleeper, he had no trouble feeling it. Nevertheless, he ignored it, preferring to mumble and tuck his head deeper into the arms he had lying in front of him on the table.

Another tap followed, except this time the person was gracious enough to do it four times in a row. Damn them, couldn't they let him sleep! He was dreaming, for god sake. A _nice_ one, and he didn't enjoy being interrupted out of a nice dream. "Leave me the hell alone Blaise, or I'll hex you into next Monday." He mumbled drowsily, his voice irritated as one hand came up to slap the other's away awkwardly.

"Blaise?" He heard the person ask; perceptibly confused.

That's when Draco groaned, shifting from his sleepy state and coming steadily back to reality. He had forgotten he was in the library and not back in his dorm, tucked away comfortably in his bed. Instead, as he lifted his head; his eyes slowly adjusting to the dark, he saw that he was resting on a stack of books that he had collected earlier that week. The books he had found on the first day Harry had kissed him. And there Harry was, staring at him with a puzzled and slightly amused expression.

"Oh, it's you," Draco muttered, a small smirk tugging at his lips. It didn't go at all with how tired he looked. If only they hadn't been studying since after dinner tonight, until… wait, what time was it?

"I'm glad you're happy to see me." Harry said, a grin forming with his equally tired looking expression. It had been a routine for them to come here every day of the week, in order to work on the homework Snape always assigned them. No one else came to the library to work after dinner, so they were usually always alone to keep privacy. Not that they had done anything since that one lovely day. In fact, it hadn't even been mentioned yet; and Draco was only keeping from saying anything because he was afraid of ruining things with Harry again.

"I am… don't worry," Draco yawned, stretching his arms over his head as to help them feel a bit less numb. "What time is it?" His eyes went to move towards the window, and he saw some dark clouds beginning to cover up a pale moon. The only source of light was coming from the faint glow of the lamps in the library. Were they even allowed to be out this late?

"Um… I don't know what time it is." Harry answered, sounding embarrassed. Draco looked at him as if he couldn't believe Harry _didn't_/ know the time. Quickly, Harry added, "I mean… that's why I woke you up. You kind of collapsed over your books."

"And you weren't keeping track of the time?" Draco asked skeptically.

"No, I was kind of… busy."

"It's just homework, Potter. It doesn't prevent you from getting up to go check the clock."

Harry looked uneasy, and shifted his gaze. "I was asleep too…" He whispered.

Draco hadn't heard it. "Could you repeat that?"

"I was asleep!" Harry said, much louder this time. He turned a shade of light red.

"Asleep?" Draco glanced briefly at the table and then back to Harry. A small smirk appeared. "But the table doesn't have enough space for the both of us to lay on."

Harry nodded, then shrugged nervously. "Well, you know how it is when people sleep… they don't really pay much attention to where they… lay."

Draco nodded, still smiling, wondering if he could get something out of Harry without him going completely nutters over the subject. The only thing Draco was disappointed about was not being able to feel the change while he was napping. His hands went to rest beneath his chin, his eyes keeping on the boy across from him. "So you fell asleep on me?"

"Not on you!" Harry responded quickly, "It was just your arms!"

"My arms? Well, they seem to be attached to me."

"Fine." Harry crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back from Draco's pleased stare. He was feeling a bit uneasy with admitting this; even though it was something not worth worrying about. "My head was laying on your arms. Happy?"

"_Much_ happier."

A hand uncrossed to run through dark hair. It seemed to ruffle it up even more, but Draco didn't mind. It made Harry look more like, well… Harry. "Do you have any idea how disturbing you can be sometimes, Malfoy?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. _What sort of disturbing?_ "Maybe."

Harry's eyes landed on Draco fully now, his expression doubtful. "Are you sure?"

"It depends on what sort of disturbing you're referring to."

"Well, the idea that you like my… head resting on your arms."

"You seem to be uneasy enough about mentioning it. Were _you_ liking it?"

Harry stared blankly at him, and there was an apparent blush filling his cheeks. "Um…"

"You did, didn't you?" Draco asked, smirking like a true Slytherin.

"No!" Harry objected. Draco purely rolled his eyes before standing up.

"Well, you obviously don't want me here. I can't believe you couldn't keep track of the time either. Who knows what time it is now, and I'm going to be heading back to the common room! I could get… slaughtered!" Draco, despite his fatigue, was always up for more of the teasing and taunting. The good kind, naturally.

"Slaughtered? Please. The most that could happen is you tripping over your own feet." Harry laughed softly, gathering up some of the books before he stood up himself. A small stretch of silence followed.

Draco cleared his throat. "Well, would you be there to catch me?"

Harry looked up from picking up more of his things; his glance an odd one. He seemed to be doing the same for Draco; working carefully to put their things back in the bags proper bags. "It depends. Do you want me to?"

"Why would I _not_ want you to?"

"Good question."

Draco laughed quietly. This was quite fun. Harry seemed to be taking Draco's obsession over him rather well; not getting angry over what he was saying and more or less joking over them. Though Draco didn't think Harry knew about an _obsession_… more of the small fact that Draco was extremely attracted to him, and had been for a long time. Ever since that day in detention; that's when all of this started, and when Harry had finally realized it.

As Draco was staring at Harry while he was gathering up their things, something made him jerk and jump nearly the a foot in the air. It was a sharp tapping against glass. He was really getting unhappy with these noises breaking the silence.

All at once, he was whipping his head around in the dark, hearing laughter coming from Harry's direction. Draco soon looked back at the boy, glaring. "What's so funny? What was that?" He snapped. Harry shook his head, struggling to stop snickering. His head tilted towards the window near their table. Draco looked over.

It was just a bloody owl. His black eagle owl, to be exact.

"Ah, I knew that. Just playing around with you, Potter." He grinned, trying to look a bit more calm, and made his way over to the window as if he had never just gotten surprised out of his wits over a stupid owl.

Slowly, he slid the window up, hearing Harry mutter something incomprehensible behind his back. The owl clicked it's beak impatiently and then hopped onto Draco's arm. It used its claws to ascend towards his shoulder. "Be more gentle, would you?" Draco snapped; the claws sticking into his arm on the way.

It basically ignored Draco, and stuck it's leg out to reveal a letter. The Slytherin quickly observed it as being the type of envelope his parents used at home. What would they be sending at this time of night that was so important? Glancing back at Harry, he quickly untied the letter from his owl's leg, shoving it into his pocket soon after. The bird ruffled it's slick feathers, and then flew back out into the night; most likely heading back to the Owlery for good night's sleep.

"So, what was it?" Harry asked from behind him. Draco turned to see the boy watching him; one hand holding his own school bag, the other holding out Draco's so he could grab it. Slowly, he went over and reclaimed it.

"Nothing, just a letter from home."

"At this time?"

_Exactly what I'd like to know_, Draco thought. "Yes, at _this_ time." He replied sarcastically.

Harry shook his head again, the sort that stood for 'nothing new there, Draco', and they both started heading for the entrance to the library. For some reason, Draco wasn't very inclined to hurry. He didn't want to see what was in that letter, because whatever it said, he knew it wouldn't say something optimistic. Everything from his parents ended up not being good news. And the few things that were, only happened to be gifts he got on holidays.

This definitely didn't feel like a gift.

"Are you sure… I mean… are you okay?" Harry looked over at Draco worriedly as they made their way through the large double doors. Draco glanced back at him; looking solemn.

"Yeah, I'm fine. But thanks for asking." He forced a smile. The last thing he wanted was for Harry to worry about him. He was fine with doing the worrying _for_ Harry.

"Welcome." Harry smiled, and moved to stand a bit closer to Draco. "It's a bit cold, isn't it?" He rubbed his hands together, trying to get them warmer. And a second after, Draco noticed exactly how cold it was. They must be out late; or else the halls would've been heated.

"Yes, it is." Draco gave a quick look back over at Harry, briefly wondering if what he was hoping to do wouldn't make Harry give off the same reaction as the other day. In any case, he wouldn't know until he did it. So, he brought up his hand, searching out Harry's own in the dark. When his hand found a hold on Harry's, he entwined his fingers through Harry's slender ones. There was a noticeable change; Harry seemed to tense… but he didn't pull away this time.

As most good things usually came, another unlikely thing happened that made Draco's heart beat four times faster. Harry moved in comfortably beside him, snuggling up close as they continued their way down the empty, darkened hallways.

If Draco had to describe perfect, it'd be this exact moment: walking hand in hand with Harry; trying to keep them both warm as they headed through the cold hallways.


	9. Caught in Dilemmas

Draco woke up early the next morning, finding that it was better to head to the Great Hall early instead of drowning in the noise of his dorm mates' loud snores. Honestly, if it was one of the last things he wanted to hear when he got back from a rather nice walk through the school halls, it was hearing the sounds of his housemates dreaming of who-knew-what. He was openly thinking about asking the headmaster to switch him into another room. 

He yawned silently; making his way out of bed and heading towards the showers. His footsteps were silent as well, and he, for once, was thankful for developing this skill over the years. If anyone woke up asking where he was off to so early on a Saturday morning, he'd go crazy. There were so many questions already being asked that he was beginning to give up on them all and just answered them truthfully. That was definitely dangerous.

As he made his way over to his trunk to gather his robes for the showers, a piece of parchment fell from a pocket and landed softly on the floor. Draco froze where he was, staring blankly at it for a few moments. The memory of how he had received this letter last night came back to him, and his stare soon turned into an almost wary gaze. Did he really want to know what the letter said? He knew that he'd feel horrible once he decided to read it. Yet… it wouldn't do any good to prolong the time before reading it.

Draco sighed as he leaned down carefully to pick it up. And instead of going off to the showers quickly, like he had been planning, he sat down slowly on his bed, dropping his robes back onto his trunk. Without waiting a minute longer, he began to leisurely open the envelope. A thin slip of parchment was drawn out; his mother's elegant handwriting printed across it.

For the next few minutes, his eyes ran across the letter, his hands beginning to lightly tremble again. And when he finally finished the last few lines, he hurriedly and nervously crumpled it up and dropped it onto the floor. His eyes were beginning to burn again, and his hands were frantically searching in his robes for his wand.

"Hell… where is it..?" He muttered anxiously, his hands fumbling through the black folds. Finally, he felt his hand close around what he was sure was his wand. Pulling it out, he held it out towards the crumpled parchment; his eyes glancing around at his sleeping dorm mates before he mumbled the small curse.

With the last small muttering of words, the parchment caught fire, turning a bright shade of green before it disappeared. Draco noticed that when this was done, he had let out a relieved breath in which he never realized he was holding. The one thought that was coursing through his mind was one of someone completely frightened of what was going to end up happening to him. Someone who was frightened for himself. And someone who desperately didn't want to leave. He didn't want to leave Harry. Suddenly, the foul thoughts started flooding in. He was trying to force out the unfamiliar sensation of fear. This entire situation could only be one person's doing, and Draco knew exactly who it was.

Theodore Nott.

That traitorous, lying, bloody son of a… well, it wasn't going to help to get any more angry. What would that change?

Glancing back at his dorm mates, whom were luckily only Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise; he fought to not strangle them to see if they were in this as well. Irately, he snatched up his robes and stormed into the showers to see if that'd possibly relax him.

Meanwhile, the words on that letter remained burned in his mind.

_My Dearest Draco,_

_I've written to inform you that you'll be spending Christmas break here at home with me. It's been quite lonely without anyone here to keep me company, so I'd thought this would be a good change for the both of us. Beginning the day after Christmas, you'll be catching the late train to come home for the holidays. I thought I'd give you a little time to spend with your friends._

_I hope that school has been going well, and that you've been receiving the top grades in your classes. I'm sure you have. Though, I've also been informed of certain things that you've been up to during this year. We'll have to talk a bit about that, and we might even have another visitor joining us in the course of your stay._

_Your father has been doing fairly decent. I've visited him a few times in Azkaban this past year, but we'll be visiting him when you come to join me this break as well. I'll be looking forward to it and seeing you again. Until then._

_Your Mother,  
Narcissa_

Draco knew that his mother didn't care about spending time with him. She never had; not even when he was home for the summer. Something was going to happen. Why would she bring him to see his father? Something was going to change.

* * *

The next morning, it was Harry's turn to get rudely awakened. When the sun was just about rising, he felt a hard shake on his shoulder to signal the beginning of the day. Groaning, Harry reached out for his blankets and pulled them over his head. It was too bright. The person was being too loud. He wanted to sleep in; after all, it was Saturday.

"Wake up, you lump!" The person called. By the sound of it; it was one of his dorm mates trying to force him out of bed in order to get an opinion about something. And if Harry's hearing was up to par, he wouldn't doubt that the person had an Irish accent.

"I don't want to get up." Harry mumbled despairingly.

"Yes you do, mate! We're all up. I have something to ask you!" Seamus leaned over to shake Harry with both his hands this time. Without much warning, Harry threw the blankets off of himself and stared up at the other boy angrily. "That's the spirit!" The boy exclaimed; a big grin on his face.

"It's early." Harry said while glancing out the window. "What's so important?"

"Are you going to the library to study today?"

Harry averted his gaze back to Seamus, rubbing his emerald eyes. "Yeah, for a bit after breakfast, why?" A yawn escaped the newly awoken Gryffindor.

"Oh, because I'm going to go with you then." Seamus replied cheerfully. He started walking back over to his bed to change out of his pajamas. Harry had sat up in his bed; staring at the boy in disbelief.

"Why?" Harry asked softly. This definitely wasn't good.

"Because I still need to work on the essay that Snape gave us last week and my dense partner is no help at all." Seamus sighed dramatically, pulling on a shirt and his maroon and gold tie. "So, is it okay?"

"Well…" Harry started.

"I mean, if you and Malfoy need your privacy, I completely understand. Don't let someone like me intrude on your _schoolwork_."

Harry glared at the Irish boy as he got out of his bed, running his hands through his messy hair in order to flatten it. As usual, not one strand chose to stay down. "It's not that, Seamus! I've alre--"

"C'mon Harry. You've been going to that library with him _every single day_. Are you going to try and convince me that you're actually doing schoolwork?" Seamus had finished changing and was looking at Harry with an innocent smirk on his face. His eyes were filled to the brim with prying curiosity.

"No!" Harry objected, getting irritated. "I've already told you that none of those rumors are true. There's nothing going on between me and Malfoy. We get along now, but there's nothing else… and you can just tell everyone else that for me!" Harry's hand ran more roughly through his hair, and when his hand dropped, he made his way quickly over to his trunk to change. Since he was already up, he felt there was no point in trying to get back to sleep. Everyone else _did_ seem to have woken up and left already.

"Whatever you say, mate." Seamus replied, rolling his eyes behind Harry's back. And after that small discussion, Harry tried his best to stay calm around his dorm mate. He had no idea what he was going to do about Seamus joining him and Malfoy in the library. The Gryffindor was positive that something was going to go wrong.

The only fact that Harry had to determine Draco's reaction, was the other day, when Draco had gotten furious over the fact that Seamus was bothering them.

Well, this day was going to be all fun and games.


	10. Arguments in the Library

Harry and Seamus made their way to the Great Hall together; Seamus continually talking to him about things too plenty to actually understand. For the most part, he blocked out the boy's voice. In the most friendly way possible, that is. And when they finally arrived in the bustling and noisy Great Hall, Harry was glad of an excuse to break apart from the conversation and go join his friends. Ron and Hermione were sitting on one side of the table, while Seamus and his friends were sitting far off to the right on the other side. 

Harry sincerely hoped that the Irish boy wasn't inviting more people to join them in the library. He'd rather have him blabbing about how he was going to go bug both him and Malfoy.

Meanwhile, from across the Great Hall, a pair of gray eyes met the sight of Harry entering the room. God, how long had it taken him? Draco had arrived about an hour before anyone else, and he was left sitting here with his breakfast all alone. Well, until his other housemates arrived, that is to say. But when had he ever considered them company?

Scowling, he saw that the annoying kid from the other day was walking beside Harry. He had no _right_ to talk to Harry; he was probably aggravating the hell out of him.

Trying to ignore it, he shifted his gaze back to his plate, which was filled with bread crusts. He absolutely detested the crusts, and preferred the actual bread. Now, if his father were here, he'd think it was a disgrace to have leftover food on the plate.

_But my father is in Azkaban now_, Draco thought bleakly, _And I'm going to have to see him again in only a few weeks._

And after that small thought, breakfast seemed to go by much faster. He sat there quietly, nodding inattentively when someone asked him a question. Some even asked if he was feeling alright. Ha, like they really cared about how he was feeling. He also tried his best to not stare back at Harry, who was laughing cheerfully with his bloody stupid friends again.

Draco left before Harry; making sure to catch the Gryffindor's eye before he exited the hall. Once he confirmed that Harry knew he was heading towards the library, he started off, hoping Harry wouldn't be too long behind. However, he had failed to notice one certain thing when he caught Harry's eye, and that was the worried expression. As a consequence, when Harry finally came in to join him, he wished he had caught that look beforehand. He would've re-scheduled the library visit if he had known Seamus was coming.

The first thing he saw was a brown head of hair peeking through the library door. From the small table Draco had chosen; his eyes narrowed as he closed his book to watch the person. Not long after, the body of that annoying Irish boy wholly entered the library. An apprehensive Harry soon followed.

Draco glared.

"Hey Malfoy." Harry said as he walked over and set his book bag on the table. Seamus, as if no one else was here to notice, flung his bag next to Harry's, nearly hitting Draco in the head.

"Why is _it_ with you?" Draco questioned heatedly.

Harry rolled his eyes, and was about to open his mouth to answer if Seamus hadn't quipped in his bit first. "I'm not an 'it'. If someone needs to be called an it, it's you. You've earned it, ferret." Seamus grinned, plopping down in one of the seats. Harry tentatively sat down next to him, while fidgeting and running a hand through his hair. Draco was trying not to scream out in fury.

"Go hang yourself," Draco commented dryly, before positioning his attention back onto Harry, "Now, why is _it_ with you?"

"He wanted to join us today." Harry replied, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Why did you let him?" Draco prodded.

"I'd thought it'd be alright… I mean, we're just working on schoolwork."

"Yeah, but why the hell does he want to do it with us? He has his own partner."

"He said that his partner was too stupid…" Harry's voice was lowering, as if to keep Seamus from hearing what he was saying. It didn't seem to be working though; Seamus was leaning in oh-so-un-stealthily to eavesdrop.

"Too stupid? You've got to be kidd--" Draco's eyes snapped to Seamus. "Yes? Would you like something?" His tone was irritated and impatient. This situation didn't appeal to him at all.

"No. Not from you. I was just wondering when the studying was going to start." The enthusiastic Gryffindor smirked, leaning back in his chair.

"We start when we say we start," Draco snapped.

"Malfoy, you don't have to get mad. It's probably not going to do anything to help." Harry looked at him, almost begging him to be nice through that one quick look. If it weren't for Draco's liking to Harry, he would've ignored it completely. But… since the circumstances were different, he listened.

"Fine."

"Good." Seamus chipped. "Let's start then."

And so, all three of them dug around in their bags to take out their ink, a quill, and their slightly worked on essays, which were due in two days. Out of all of them, Draco had written the most.

"You've certainly been the busy bee." Seamus commented, looking at Draco's essay, and how he had finished at least half of it; all in neat writing.

"And you certainly haven't." Draco countered back, taking a quick glance at Seamus' own one fourth written essay. The Gryffindor merely smiled and shook his head, as if the words hadn't effected him at all. A minute later, silence fell, and the only sounds heard were the scratching of their quills and the rustling of turning book pages.

It could only be described using one word; awkward. Harry was hoping like hell that Draco wasn't angry beyond belief, Draco was still seething over how Harry could possibly bring this dull-brain here, and Seamus was… well, he wasn't exactly finding anything awkward. He was quietly waiting for the moment he'd start his plan.

At long last, the fifteen minutes ended, and Seamus was ready and excited to figure some things out. After all, someone around here needed to get _something_ out of these two. Smirking, he dropped his quill and placed his hands in front of him on the table. "So, how long have you two been meeting like this?"

Draco stopped short, his quill frozen in place and his eyes boring into the parchment. Harry started by shooting a 'look' in Seamus' direction. What was he up to now?

"Since the day the professor assigned us to work together, why?" Draco replied through gritted teeth. Harry glanced at the Slytherin nervously. For now, he thought it best to not speak when it wasn't needed.

"Oh, just curious. What do you guys do?" Seamus' eyes glittered mischievously.

"Nothing!" Harry suddenly shouted.

Both Draco and Seamus glanced back at Harry. Blonde eyebrows rose, while the other Gryffindor's smirk grew even wider.

"Really?" Seamus asked. His eyes snapped back onto Draco.

"We work, you idiot." Draco added; obviously aggravated.

"Oh, okay… well, that's interesting." Seamus feigned a bored sigh, and then bent down to retrieve something else from his bag. While he did so, he started up another question. "So did you guys hear about Snape's supply cabinet being raided?"

Harry was honestly glad that Seamus was changing the subject. He shook his head and glimpsed at Draco, only to see him staring intensely at his housemate. "No, I didn't. What'd they steal?" Harry asked distractedly.

"I heard that they took Veritaserum."

"Who'd want to steal that?"

Seamus looked up from his bag, staring up at Draco; dumbfounded. "Who_ wouldn't_ want the stuff?"

"I don't." Draco stated.

"Yeah, right. Even someone like you would want to use it on someone to see what they think of you, or if they _like_ you." Seamus grinned, turning back to searching through his bag. It seemed as though there was a mountain of parchment in there.

"What the hell are you going on about?" Draco retorted.

"Oh, _nothing_." Seamus replied. He shot Harry a 'look', just to let him know how much he didn't much like having 'nothing' used on him.

After a few more seconds of stiff silence, Seamus finally reappeared over the top of the table, his hand clutching something unseen to the both of them. Harry was very worried by this point. Draco was completely oblivious; he was too busy wallowing in his anger towards Seamus to pay attention to any sly tricks.

"What's that you have there?" Harry questioned quietly, motioning toward Seamus' hand. It appeared to be some sort of vile, and Harry didn't exactly need to think twice about what it was.

"Oh, this?" Seamus smirked and held up what appeared to be a bottle of air. He turned it around a few times in his fingers, and both Draco and Harry detected a bit of shimmering mist. "This is--"

"Veritaserum." Draco interjected. "You do realize that you just told _me_ that you're the one who stole it."

"Yeah, and what do you plan on doing?"

"Informing the professor."

"Malfoy, we don't have to do that. I mean… it's just one--" Harry started.

"No, we do! Do you know how long it takes to make Veritaserum? I'm surprised Snape hasn't hunted down and slaughtered him yet."

"Malfoy… please?" Harry implored.

"Why should I let someone I think is a slimy little idio--"

Suddenly, his sentence broke off when Seamus leaned across the table, thrusting the hand with the vile in it underneath Draco's nose. Draco drew back sharply, toppling backwards off of his chair. Seamus started cracking up, and Harry stood up quickly, staring down at the floor with an open mouth from across the table.

"Are you okay, Malfoy?" He asked hurriedly; though he made no move to go and help him up. He was a bit afraid of the Slytherin pouncing up to attack Seamus.

"No… I actually hurt my back rather badly." Draco commented dryly, sucking in a deep breath as he pushed himself up from the floor. Seamus snickered, and Draco's eyes dangerously fell on him. "Why the fuck did you do that, you little prick!"

Seamus did a 'tsk, tsk' sound and waved the uncapped bottle between his fingers. The bottle was completely empty now; Harry could tell.

"You just inhaled the contents of this vile, my friend." Seamus said; grinning from ear to ear. "Now, where shall I start?"

Harry swallowed, weakly collapsing back in his chair. He looked between both Draco and Seamus; whom were both in a severe staring match, as if daring each other to speak first.

Yes, this was something that could unquestionably be considered going wrong.


	11. What a Potion Can Do

It was five minutes later, and they were all still sitting in silence. Amazingly, Seamus was allowing them to get themselves together before he started the questioning. Not that it made Seamus an any better person; Draco was furious beyond belief, and Harry was quite nervous. Frankly, they both didn't want anymore time to think about what this situation would bring; they wanted to get it over with. And so Seamus began. 

He smirked at Draco, who was now sitting back at the table, his hands in his lap and his gaze focused on the table surface. Harry was sitting across from him; watching him carefully. "So, having fun Malfoy?" Seamus asked.

"No." He responded shortly. He shifted slightly; his eyes becoming a bit fogged over. Harry wasn't sure if it was the Veritaserum or the anger urging to burst out, but he knew Draco was uncomfortable. Why didn't he just leave?

"Why aren't you having fun?" Seamus asked. He was sitting at the table like a professor would; his hands clasped in front of him in a business-like way.

"Because you're here."

"What's wrong with me?"

"You're an annoying, irritating, inconsiderate, and rude little Gryffindor who still belongs in second year." Draco looked up at Seamus menacingly.

"Well, that's nothing new." The Irish boy commented nonchalantly. "What would you do if I _wasn't_ here?"

"I'd sit here with Harry."

"And do _what_?"

"Talk to him and give help on the assignment."

"That's it?"

Draco narrowed his eyes, clearly not wanting to continue with this. The only problem was that he couldn't seem to find the yearning of wanting to leave. Damn it all to hell. It was probably one of the effects of the Veritaserum. "No."

"Then what else will you be doing?"

"Thinking."

"About what?"

There was another pause. Harry looked between the table and Draco, wondering if he should say something to see if it'd make this stop. They were continuing to talk back and forth; asking as much as possible and answering as concisely as possible. It wasn't going to end pretty, and Harry _knew_ that it'd be hard to stop it. With a quiet sigh, he focused his gaze on his shoes.

Draco gritted his teeth; his fists clenching for what seemed like the thousandth time since this had all begun. "About Harry."

Seamus' smirk grew. "I knew it. What do you think about Harry anyway?"

"He's rather nice even though he doesn't…" Draco paused again, closing his eyes as if he were trying to fight something off, "… even though he doesn't have to be. He's attractive, innocent, and sometimes quite annoying and clueless, but a wonderful person all the same."

"Wow, I didn't think you paid any attention to those sorts of details." Seamus sincerely looked surprised, but he still couldn't conceal his expression of glee. Draco opened his eyes to stare severely at the boy again.

"What's your point to all this? Could you stop asking me questions?" The Slytherin's voice was remarkably calm considering how he had been deceived… well, more like surprised, into taking the mist-like truth potion.

"Of course there's a point to all of this. I'm curious, and you're helping it disappear." Seamus grinned and stood up from his chair. Instead of looking like a business-like man as he sat at the table, he now looked like a business-like man pacing around the room with his hands clasped behind his back. "Now, back to before. What exactly do you think about Harry as you're here in the library?"

"Things I'd like to do with him," Draco responded quietly.

"Sorry, I didn't get that." Seamus cupped a hand around his ear, "Care to repeat yourself?"

"Yes, I do care!" Draco snapped.

"Then I guess I'll have to ask you again." Seamus rolled his eyes and walked over to stand beside the clearly edgy Malfoy. "_What_ exactly do you think about Harry as you're here in the library?"

"Things I'd like to do with him," Draco repeated; this time more loudly.

"You sure do like to keep away from the details, don't you?" Seamus sighed dramatically and glanced at Harry. He seemed to be giving his housemate a look that showed he wanted him to stop. Dear god, Seamus couldn't stop at an opportunity like this!

"Yes, I really do like to stay away from details." Draco answered dully.

"Fine then, what are these _things_ you'd like to do with him?"

"Things in which shouldn't be mentioned in front of you."

"Well, I asked you. So you have to answer."

"Why should I?"

"Uh…"

There was a large amount of unease on Seamus' part in that brief moment, and Draco shot Harry an angry look. Or maybe it was only that his eyes were holding a dangerous gleam? The blonde then turned back to Seamus, scowling and apparently having enough of the interrogation.

"Do you really want to know?" He shot back angrily.

Seamus backed up nervously, stuttering over his words. He knew that something had gone wrong with the potion… or that his time had run out already. "Um… y-yes… that would be nice…"

"It would? Hmm… did you want me to say that I was…" Draco stopped, stood up, and pretended as if he were thinking."… Let's see… maybe you were hoping I was thinking of _fucking_ him? Was that it?" Draco approached Seamus slowly; his eyes narrowed.

"Or maybe you wanted even more detail than that? How about this!" He shoved Seamus firmly into the bookshelf behind him. "Maybe I was thinking of tying him to my bed, stripping him of all his clothes, and riding him until he started screaming out my name?"

Harry stood up quickly, knocking over his chair in the process. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, and he wasn't sure if he should leave to try and get help, or try and stop this himself. Though, after a few seconds, he made up his mind and rushed over to where Seamus was cowering against the bookshelf; Draco towering darkly over him. This was going entirely too far. "Stop! Just leave him alone, Malfoy!"

Draco whipped his gaze around to glare at Harry. "Why? He wanted to know so badly, didn't he? Maybe if you didn't bring this damn bastard in here, then none of this would've happened!"

"Malfoy! It was just a--"

"I DON'T CARE WHAT IT WAS! Is it really such a big deal that I like you?" Draco's voice was practically a thunderous yell by now; his breathing quickening. Seamus was staring wide eyed and frightened from where he was trapped. Unfortunately for him, Draco turned back on him; pushing him up roughly against the books. "And you, you sick little… whatever the hell you call your species… _never_ try that on me again."

Harry stood there, feeling somewhat useless in this entire situation. If he was the main cause of this argument, then why couldn't he help as much as he wanted?

"I-I-I won't, Malfoy. I mean…" He glanced at Harry for help. And for the first time, Harry decided to do something that he knew would make it worse, but better for them overall. He pushed Draco forcibly away from Seamus and stood between them.

"JUST STOP!" His emerald eyes were blazing. If this was what was going to happen with the small news of him and Draco getting friendly, then he didn't want any part of it. He wasn't going to risk anyone getting hurt. Sighing, he looked at Draco, who looked even more furious than before. "I don't want you fighting anymore."

It seemed like electricity crackled between the gray and emerald stares, and then Draco spoke gravely. "I didn't think you'd side with me. It's funny, how I'm right about these things." His voice rose, and cracked only a bit as he spoke. "Not that _I'd_ ever side with you if one of the Slytherins decided to harass you." His eyes held an empty, emotionless gaze as he turned around and walked over to the table to retrieve his bag. Harry suddenly felt like someone had torn a hole through his heart. Seamus was honestly too afraid to know what was going on.

Draco glanced back at Harry one last time before he left the library. "I'll see that I never try and bother you again. Have a nice life, Potter." And with that, he walked silently towards the doors of the library; the large doors closing and leaving a loud echo that bounced around the room.

Harry stood there for what seemed like forever, just staring at the doors as if expecting Draco to come back. It wasn't until Seamus edged around him to get his own bag that he snapped out of it. "You okay there, mate? Thanks… by the way." The Irish Gryffindor tried to smile, but he knew something was wrong with his housemate.

"Sorry, Seamus." Harry muttered softly. He grabbed his bag and waited until the other boy had left before he left himself. And as he made his way down the busy hallways; his heart sank even lower as he thought of where Draco was right now, and what he must be thinking about him. Harry felt sick.


	12. Nott Again

Harry knew that Draco had said he'd no longer bother Harry again. He knew that the boy had been serious, or at least as serious as he could manage. For the next few days he rarely saw Draco. It was only during dinner and Potions class that he saw him, in which he never spoke a word to Harry. He looked rather violent, really. He was scribbling so hard on his parchment that it sometimes ripped, and nearly cut his fingers off when chopping the ingredients. Draco was a mess, and Harry knew that what he was planning was going to make it worse. 

But he knew it'd be good for the both of them, and the people that chose to get involved. He had to find someone. Someone that he could use as a girlfriend, or boyfriend, per say, so that Draco could see that Harry wanted nothing to do with him. The more everyone found out about him and Draco, the more they'd get hurt. Harry didn't want this to happen to either of them; so he made up this plan over the few silent days.

Even though he _knew_ he had been developing deeper feelings for Draco. That's what made it difficult.

On the last day of the week, after all the classes were over and done with, and with even more schoolwork to look forward to on the weekend, Harry went out to find someone that might be able to help him. Someone from his own house would be the best decision, and so that's where he was heading. To the Gryffindor common room. It'd be easy to ask someone if they could pretend to be his boyfriend or girlfriend to make someone else realize he didn't need them. The trouble was getting them to accept. Harry decided he was going to leave out Malfoy when asking for help, for the sake of his own life and the respect he had in Gryffindor.

As he turned the corner, he nearly ran into someone else. He stepped back quickly, drawing out his wand as soon as he recognized the short brown hair and horribly evil-looking blue eyes. On the other hand, if he hadn't had previous encounters with the boy, he'd presume him to be fairly innocent for a Slytherin. However, at the moment, Harry found that he was the only one surprised. Theodore had been expecting him.

"I've heard about your plan, Potter." Nott stated darkly. He was grinning in a somewhat sly manner; his eyes betraying the malevolence in his stare. "Why are you doing it?"

Harry stared at the other boy blankly. He was confused. How would Nott know about his plan? He hadn't even told anyone. If someone were to know what was going on, the only person would be…. Seamus. Emerald eyes narrowed and the grip on his wand tightened.

"Aww, don't you want to tell me why you're going to hurt Malfoy's sensitive feelings?" Nott smirked and took a slow step towards Harry. Harry stepped back and cautiously held his wand out.

"He doesn't care about me anymore." Harry responded warningly. "And how would you know about a plan?"

"I have my sources. And trust me, Malfoy has something_ serious_ for you."

"What do you want?" Harry hissed.

Nott feigned a look of surprise. "I just thought I might be of some help. You know…" He lowered his voice, "… I do know how much it'll take for Malfoy to leave you alone."

Harry scowled. "I'd never trust help from you."

Suddenly, as if a dawning realization ignited in Nott's train of thought, a twisted frown appeared on his face. "Why not!" He snapped, stepping forward.

Harry panicked and backed up again. To his disapproval, he found that there was a wall behind him. Nott seemed to know what his next move would be, and before Harry could mutter a small curse, Nott drew out his own wand and muttered "Accio Wand!" Harry's wand flew from his hand and into Nott's.

"Ah, ah, ah… now what?" Nott taunted. The wand dangled in between two fingers. Harry surged forward, snatching at air as the Slytherin dodged out of the way.

"Give me my wand!" Harry shouted.

"No. You were going to curse me." Nott challenged casually.

"Give it to me." Harry said threateningly, standing stock still in front of the other boy, glaring harshly at him.

"No."

With another burst of anger, Harry rushed forward and grabbed onto Nott's wrist. He was trying to pry the wand from Nott's fingers, but he seemed to be holding it with a death grip. For onlookers, all they'd see was two boys fighting for a wand in the middle of a hallway. Unfortunately, no one was around to give help.

"Give it to me!" Harry shouted again.

"No, Potter! Just let me help you!" Nott shouted in response, his face set in a determined expression as he kept the wand away from the Gryffindor. Quickly, he thought of something, and used his own wand to stick it into Harry's lower stomach. Harry let out a startled sound, and immediately released the grip he had on Nott's wrist.

"That's better. Now, why won't you let _me_ help you?" Nott asked casually. He stepped forward so that Harry would follow his steps and back up against the wall.

"I already told you. I'd never trust you." Harry replied through gritted teeth.

"You only need someone to show Malfoy that you don't want him anymore. Or, at least, that you didn't want him to begin with. Right?"

There was a moment of silence. The only sound that can be heard was Harry's uneven breathing. A stony glare was focused on Nott.

"Well? It's true, isn't it? Why not let me be your boyfriend? It'll only be for a few days."

"No way in hell, Nott. Now leave me alone."

"Did you not hear me!" Nott snarled angrily. The wand pressed deeper into Harry's stomach. "I don't think you have any other choice. From what I've heard, there needs to be a lot of convincing in order to get Draco to Istop/I dreaming of fucking you."

"SHUT UP!" Harry yelled. He tried pushing the smaller boy away, but for some reason Nott's strength seemed to be much more than his own. He was slammed back into the wall; hitting his head in the process.

"I won't shut up." Nott whispered. His face moved so that his lips were barely against Harry's ear. Harry heard the boy mutter a small spell, and a moment later he felt his hands and feet get strapped to the wall. However… when he glanced down at them, there seemed to be nothing there. "Now that I've gotten you under control. Just a small kiss can be in order, yes?"

"Never." Harry muttered quietly. His eyes were closed and he was trying to fight back the pain emitting from the back of his head. He felt the wand go in deeper, and a sharp pain followed.

"I don't know if you realized what sort of situation you're in." Nott commented.

Harry didn't answer.

"Kiss me or I'll curse you until there's no pain _left _to fee--"

Harry's lips against his cut off the remainder of the sentence. Nott was caught by surprise, but didn't waste any time to make it an even deeper kiss. Harry honestly felt sick, his eyes closed and willing himself not to think of who he was kissing. That and the way he had given in so easily. But… there was no other way to get out of it.

When Harry felt hands inching up his shirt, he rapidly pulled away and opened his eyes to shoot daggers at Nott. The boy looked like he had just stepped through the gates of heaven. Harry very much felt like damning the boy to hell.

"There. Now let me go," Harry whispered furiously.

A small smirk tipped the edge of Nott's lips, and he muttered the counter-spell to undo the spell he had used to hold Harry against the wall. "I think your little job was accomplished." Nott said with a hint of amusement, his head motioning somewhere down the hallway.

Harry's attention briefly left the way he was imagining the ways to kill Nott in the few seconds they had, and looked down the hall to see what the Slytherin was talking about. What he saw made his entire sense of anger disappear, and it was replaced with such a horrible sinking feeling that he felt like he might as well kill himself now. Standing there was none other than Draco. The look on his face reflected disbelief, and Harry knew there was repulsion among the horribly hurt stare he was receiving. Before he could explain himself, the paler-than-usual Slytherin turned around and took the corner in a flurry of robes. Harry could hear rapidly descending footsteps echoing down the hall.

Harry turned back to Nott with an inscrutable expression. Nott's smugness and absolute happiness over how the situation seemed to be turning out was destroyed in a matter of seconds. Harry brought a solid first right against the side of Nott's face, which startled the boy enough that he stumbled and fell onto the floor. "You are _sick_." Harry spat, his voice full of hatred. "Patrificus Totalus." The smaller Slytherin froze on the floor. Harry knew he couldn't do anything more serious to the boy, for the professors were apt to find him sometime. After another small kick to Nott's legs, he followed his leave down the same hallway he saw Malfoy standing in. He could hear Nott's small groans of pain from where he was, but it soon disappeared as he went down the corridor hurriedly.

Seamus was going to pay for teaming up with Nott over his and Malfoy's personal business. He was going to pay very badly. Harry felt strongly like he was being betrayed.

Though, a minute later, that thought was broken out by the sight of Malfoy running down a hallway further away. He had to swallow back a large lump in order to keep himself from feeling any worse then he was.

"Malfoy!" Harry called loudly. He started running too; his heart pounding rapidly. The Slytherin didn't answer, or show any sign of hearing him. "Malfoy, please stop!" He called again.

It was too late, and Draco was keen on leaving Harry behind. The Slytherin turned around another corner and disappeared.


	13. Mixed Feelings

Even though Harry hadn't seen Draco anywhere around the corridor he had disappeared down, he continued searching for him anyway. A strong feeling of guilt and disgust was sifting inside of him; Draco's expression wasn't easy to forget. He felt like he had done wrong, which he knew he had, but he had_ wanted_ this to happen, right? Apparently, this was harder said than done. 

Harry turned another corner, not set on any certain destination, and he soon came to a stop beside a door that was slightly ajar. From the inside, he could hear things being thrown against the wall. Fierce cursing soon followed, and Harry didn't need to second guess who the voice belonged to. Draco was obviously in an extremely foul mood, and he had taken an empty classroom as somewhere to vent his anger… and possibly make himself get over the fact that he had caught Harry kissing Nott.

Taking a deep breath, Harry tried to calm his nerves before walking inside to attempt apologizing. Once this was somewhat accomplished, he took a step forward and pushed the door open slowly. All of a sudden, a large textbook flew over his head, nearly hitting him in the middle of the forehead.

"It's only me, Malfoy." Harry said; panicking. Before he could change his mind about doing this, he walked quickly inside the classroom and shut the door. Draco was watching him with an intensely furious glare; his hand clutched around his wand and the other hanging at his side.

"What the fuck do you want, Potter?" Draco asked icily, his tone a deathly quiet.

"I just came in here to apologize!" Harry started sharply. He was clutching his own wand inside his robe pocket as he watched the Slytherin from across the room.

"Apologize for kissing someone I had saved you the trouble of being sexually harassed by!" Draco's eyes gleamed, "Save your apologies for someone who cares."

"I didn't do it on purpose! If you were only sensible enough to see that I was caught up against the wall!"

"Just like last time, but this time you kissed _him_!"

"I had no other choice."

"What was the point of me even helping you then? It was all for nothing. You went easily back to that little bastard, hoping--"

"I WASN'T HOPING FOR ANYTHING!" Harry yelled loudly; his patience wearing thin. It wasn't supposed to turn out like this at all. Why couldn't Draco understand?

They both stood there, their quiet breathing the only sound in the room. If Harry wasn't mistaken, Draco looked somewhat taken aback by his outburst.

"I don't care. You let him do it." Draco finally said, his voice returning to that deadly quiet.

"Malfoy, I didn't want to. You have to trust me. It was the only way he would let me g--"

"I don't care!" Draco interjected. His voice was louder this time, and Harry narrowed his emerald eyes at the boy.

"I thought you said you wouldn't bother with me again."

"I said I wouldn't bother _with_ you. And I'm not; I'm bothered_ by_ you. Do you have _any _idea what it's like to be infatuated with someone that doesn't give a damn about your feelings?"

"No, bu--"

"No, you don't! It bloody kills me. It's going to drive me insane one of these days, and it'll be all your fault!"

"No, it won't!" Harry yelled, his fists clenching. He wasn't going to be blamed for something like this, just because Draco wasn't getting his way.

"Yes, it will!" Draco shouted in return. He approached Harry rapidly, a hand closing around one his shoulders to push him up against the wall. The abruptness caused Harry's eyes to widen in surprise. Draco's other hand pushed against Harry's other shoulder; the wand now seemingly back in his pocket.

"You have no idea what it's like, dreaming of someone so much that you can't _sleep_ at night. Thinking of them so often that it's_ impossible_ to concentrate. To _want _them so bad that you can nearly feel the pain of knowing you'll never get them." Draco's voice was a near whisper by now; his face wasn't too far away from Harry's own. His hands were still pressing hard against the fearful Gryffindor's shoulders.

"Draco… I'm sorry. I really am…" Harry replied quietly, trying to keep himself from trembling. Draco was awfully close, and his shoulders were beginning to ache. All he wanted to do was make these problems disappear. That way they could…

"You can't be sorry, Potter." Draco snapped, his lips forming into a devious smirk. "But I appreciate the concern. Now…"

"Draco…please let go of me." Harry whispered softly. He was beginning to feel like he was suffocating. Suffocating beneath Draco's hard gaze, his cold words, and the way he was lingering so close against him. That was the exact reason why he didn't want anything to do with the other boy. He was afraid.

"Isn't this the way you like it, Potter?" Draco inquired, an eyebrow raised. "I've seen you just like this every time you're with a_ certain_ someone else." He pressed himself fully against Harry, not bothering to notice the instant flush rise in Harry's face. The Gryffindor couldn't find himself to lift a hand; he felt weak on his knees.

"Not going to answer me?" Draco asked innocently. However, the innocence sounded more like a plan to get something he wanted. Malfoys _couldn't_ be innocent.

Harry bit his lip. There was no way he could answer. Instead of pushing away or telling Malfoy that he didn't want this, he stayed pinned there like a rag doll. "Fine," Draco said suddenly, "Then you won't mind me believing that's a 'yes'?"

Then, without any clue or warning, Draco pressed his lips firmly against Harry's. The following feeling wasn't the same as their first kiss. Their first had been soft and gentle; Draco had been troubled and eager for comfort then. But now it was forceful and fueled completely by anger. Even so, and even though Draco's touch was desperately searching over his own, Harry was finding that he couldn't pull away.

Harry soon felt the light tracing of Draco's tongue traveling along his bottom lip. Without even thinking about it, Harry's mouth parted willingly, a content moan escaped unexpectedly.

Not very long after that, Harry started grabbing hastily at the sides of Draco's arms in order to stay upright. His hands were gripping Draco's robes weakly, as Draco's tongue explored every inch of his mouth as deemed possible at the time, and teased him by rubbing up against his own. And when he finally drew apart from Harry's lips, he bit lightly on the boy's bottom lip, a warm breath let loose as he drew away completely.

"Not bad," Draco whispered breathlessly.

Harry gasped, almost choking with his own uneven breathing pattern, when Draco's hands ran smoothly over his chest, down from his shoulders, and then towards his legs. They curved around the inside of his thighs and started to stroke them slowly, before moving back out again to wrap around Harry's lower waist. A smirk was playing across the pale boy's face as he felt Harry's startled reaction; the small jump of surprise.

That's when all of Harry's senses seemed to jolt back into him. With a start, he edged sideways along the wall away from Draco. As fast as he could.

But Draco merely stood there, his eyes following Harry as he moved away. His hands had dropped to his sides. His cheeks were a slight shade of pink and his breathing still quick from the kiss. And the unnerving smirk was still playing across his face.

"What's the matter?" Draco finally asked, taking a small step towards Harry.

"You were… your hands…" Harry started. He was still having trouble speaking, and he really did feel like slapping himself so that he could manage to speak a few words and get out of here as quick as he could. He hadn't meant to react this way towards Draco, or his sudden change in behavior. First the Slytherin had been truly furious with him, then on him like someone _craving_ attention, and now he was acting as if nothing had happened.

"I was what?" Draco requested curiously. Another step was taken forward, and he put on a look that appeared as though he couldn't think that he'd done anything wrong.

"You were kissing me… and… feeling me!" Harry exclaimed.

"I was?"

"YES!"

"Oh, and I thought it was just a friendly greeting," Draco drawled sarcastically.

Harry started at him, wide-eyed. Never before had he been in a more… intimate position like that, and Draco_ had_ to be the first person. And now he was acting like a complete sarcastic, uncaring git like he always was.

"So this is what I get for trying to apologize!" Harry shouted.

Draco faltered a bit in his steps, and saw that the other boy was starting to back up to leave. "It didn't seem as though you had any objections," he replied calmly.

"Well, maybe I did!"

"Well maybe you should've pushed me away to begin with!"

"I CAN'T!"

"AND WHY IS THAT! I SEEM TO RECALL YOU BEING THE ONE TO KISS _ME_ THE LAST TIME!"

"SO? HOW WOULD I KNOW THE REASON THAT I LIKE YOU!"

There was an awkward silence after Harry had shouted. Draco was staring at him as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard. Harry was now breathing unevenly again, but it had more to do with the yelling than it did the kiss. For some reason, Harry couldn't take looking at Draco for any much longer. Too many assortments of feelings were dashing through him, and he honestly didn't want to deal with it.

"I have to go." Harry muttered darkly. Before Draco could grab a hold of him to keep him in the same spot, the dark haired boy turned around and ran out of the classroom, the door closing loudly behind him. Draco rushed over and opened it again, hoping to get the other boy's attention before he was gone.

"Harry! Wait, I'm sorry!"

This time, it was Harry's turn to not look back.


	14. A Streak of Anger

Draco returned to his common room an hour later, when everyone else seemed to be in there at the same exact time. His welcome was very _unwelcoming_. As soon as he walked through the common room entrance, all eyes landed on him, penetrating and critical. He scowled at them all, but they didn't jump and look away like before. They simply scowled back and went back to their activities. Draco didn't even bother using his strength to trudge up to the dorms; where would that get him anyway? 

"Hey Draco, it looks like you've bee--" started Nott.

"I'd advise you to refrain from speaking with me." Draco growled. He collapsed onto the sleek coach in front of the fireplace; propping his elbows on his knees. _Unless you want to be seriously injured_.

Obviously, that's exactly what Nott wanted. He was doing a wonderful job at achieving that end. "What's the matter? Can't stand your little boyfriend kissing up to another Slytherin?"

"SHUT THE HELL UP, NOTT!" Draco fumed.

"Well, wel--"

But before Nott could even finish the last bit of 'well', that slipped so sickeningly off of his tongue, Draco had stood up, fuming with secreted fury, and drawn his wand out against Nott's throat. "I told you to _not_ talk to me." Draco warned.

That's when all the attention was drawn back on him. It was no longer detestation or abhorrence, like he had seen on his way inside, but it was apprehension and surprise. And he didn't mind one bit at all. If Nott wanted to get hurt, Draco would have no trouble in fulfilling his desire. Stepping forward, Nott followed by taking a step back. Other Slytherins moved out of the way, not knowing if they should help or just watch from the sidelines.

"You know, Draco… I was just kidding…" Nott laughed nervously.

"Kidding. I'm sure you were." Draco responded darkly.

"What's gotten into you? I mean… why are you caring about what's been--"

"BECAUSE I'M INVOLVED, YOU LITTLE BASTARD!" Draco yelled. The wand pressed deeper into Nott's throat, which made the smaller boy choke.

"He doesn't like you… Draco…" Nott whispered.

"Would you like to bet your life on that?" The pale Slytherin questioned angrily.

Nott closed his eyes, starting to mutter softly under his breath, as if praying to some imaginary god to strike down upon the offending Slytherin. Draco merely rolled his eyes and remained where he was standing.

"I'd like to thank you for making my life a living hell, for making _Harry's_ life a living hell, and for continuing to bloody bring it up," Draco hissed, "When we've done nothing to you."

"You've done plenty," Nott finally choked out. His eyes were still closed. To be honest, Draco was stunned that this boy was still courageous enough to speak to him like this.

"Like what?" Draco spat.

"Treating me, or well, more like the rest of us, like you do. Always bossing us around like you're _better_ than everyone else."

Draco glared. However, the skill to find some sort of smart remark to defend himself had failed him. It was true, he had to admit. But what in the bloody hell did this have to do with Harry? And why did they even bother to bring this up _now_ out of all the countless times they could have?

"You think you can get away with everything because of your father. But I don't even think your father _cares_ about you anymore. After all, he _is_ lo--"

"My father has nothing to do with Harry," Draco hissed, "You doing things to him won't make me stop doing these things to everyone else."

"But you've stopped doing them ever since the beginning of this year! And that's when you were acting _weird_!"

"SO WHAT!" Draco shouted. "YOU ALL HAVE BLOODY PROBLEMS!"

Then, Draco muttered a quick hex and Nott was seen sprawling across the floor, hitting his back against the opposite wall. The consequences of his actions weren't even thought of at that moment, and he went marching forward, where Nott was lying, whimpering, on the floor.

"Get away from me, Draco," Nott muttered desolately.

But Draco didn't listen. He stopped a foot away from the boy lying on the floor, glaring icily down on him. By now, the group in the common room had scattered. Most of them went up to their dorms, others went running out of the common room to get help from Snape, or someone of the like. Draco didn't pay any heed to that.

"Why should I get away from you? You think it's fun to ruin someone else's life just because they happen to have a personality _different_ from yours!"

"Get _away_," Nott cautioned, "You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

"You've gotten yourself into this!"

"No."

"NO WHAT!"

Draco stepped forward, his temper clearly moving ahead of him. He pointed his wand straight at Nott's chest, and muttered a spell that sent him crushing back into the wall again. The other's boys head drooped, and a loud groan of pain was heard.

"Your mother won't be too happy to hear about this, Draco." Nott managed to mutter; his voice was hardly perceptible.

"My mother?" Draco asked dangerously, his eyes narrowing. "What are you saying?"

"Someone had to let her know what was going on with you."

Draco was quiet for a few seconds, before he wavered and took a step backwards. "You're the one who contacted my mother?" He asked softly.

Nott lifted his head, a bit of blood dripping down from somewhere near his ear. He grimaced as he attempted a smirk. Draco was staring at him in disbelief. So Nott _was_ the one that had informed his mother of what was going on with him. And now this malevolent little prick was going to go off and tell her about this too.

"Yes," Nott replied complacently.

"You realize that I'm probably going to bloody DIE THIS CHRISTMAS BREAK!" Draco roared, furious with himself and the other boy. The idea of what was most likely going to happen to him soon was rising within him, when he didn't even want to think of it. He knew the letter was a very obvious clue as to what awaited him at home. Either a very serious punishment… or…

"You'll be killed?" Nott asked, almost looking the same amount of smug as he did before. But he also looked a bit wary; he hadn't known _that_ small fact.

Draco didn't answer. His eyes were starting to burn again, and his hands were shaking terribly. With one swift swipe of his wand, he sent a heavy schoolbook that was resting on the table nearby, flying across the room, striking Nott in the chest. There was a brief 'oof' where the air had been knocked out of the Slytherin, and Draco rushed out of the common room without another second to waste on watching.

His life felt like it had been shattered in a matter of minutes.


	15. Trouble in the Hallway

Harry didn't know where he could go. There was always the option of heading back to his common room, though he knew his housemates would be badgering him about what could possibly be the matter. He was flustered, flushed, and a bit disheveled because of what had just happened with him and Draco, and frankly, he didn't want to be questioned as to what _exactly_ he had been doing. Harry turned around another corridor, lost as to where he should go now, and then collapsed against one of the walls. A hand went to grab at his side; his breathing was uneven and heavy from running as far away as was feasible from Draco. 

Harry felt confused, lost, and completely violated. He hadn't wanted that to happen. He had been planning to apologize to Draco for all he had done to make the Slytherin feel as miserable as he looked, and all the other boy wanted to do was feel him up. Was that the only reason Draco liked him? And why was he returning the bloody feeling! Nothing good was coming of this situation; Harry had no idea why he was feeling increasingly closer to Draco.

Letting out a tired sigh, Harry was planning to slide the rest of the way down the wall, before he felt a rough hand grab him by the back of his robes. He gave a startled gasp as he felt the person pulling him down the hall. When the shock finally subsided, he looked to see who the attacker was, and was greeted with the horrid image of… Professor Snape.

"P-professor?" Harry asked hesitantly. He wasn't sure of what he had done to get himself into trouble, or if the man had snapped at seeing Harry wandering the halls when he was expected to be frolicking about in the common room with his friends.

"Mr. Potter. It was very convenient for me to find you here, when you seem to be the very source of the problem I'm about to scrutinize." Snape's head turned to the side to glare darkly at him as they continued through the hall, his black eyes piercing right through his own nervous, emerald gaze. "It has come to my attention that Mr. Malfoy has disrupted his common room, and shook up one of his Iown/I housemates."

"But, sir, what does that have to do with --"

"Don't interrupt, Potter! I _also_ was informed of the reason why Mr. Malfoy started the fight."

"What was --"

Snape didn't allow him to finish his question. They were weaving in and out of the corridors down toward the dungeons. Harry was stumbling awkwardly behind Snape, the corner of his robe collar still held in Snape's greasy hand.

"The reason was _you_, Mr. Potter. Now, I wonder how big of a surprise that is to you? Do you, perhaps, know of why he would bring you up? Maybe you were fighting again?"

"No, Professor! We weren't figh--"

"I'm sure you weren't," the Professor snapped, "House points will be taken away and another week's detention might serve as a lesson. I'm getting very impatient with your adolescent bickering with Mr. Malfoy."

"That's not fair! I didn't even know about this, Professor! I didn't have to do with any of the fights. I was standing back in the hallway, how could I!" Harry protested angrily.

"There are ways, Mr. Potter. Would you like _more_ house points taken away for questioning my judgments?"

"No." Harry replied through gritted teeth. He was near ready to tear away from the git's grip so that he was able to bolt back down the opposite end of the hall. Why did Draco have to make a scene in front of his untrustworthy housemates? Obviously, considering the way they had been acting in Potions class, it would bring the Professor to suspect him to be a part of it. Harry was seething.

Finally, they had descended their way to the entrance of the Slytherin common room. Snape let go of Harry's robes, and then turned around to face him, his eyes narrowed dangerously and his face set in an awful scowl. "You will wait out here until I return. Then you and Mr. Malfoy will be joining me on our way to the Headmaster's office." Then, with a quick whip of robes, Snape muttered the password beneath his breath and swept into the common room. Harry only got a quick glimpse of a room that seemed absolutely deserted.

Yes, he knew he should run and escape the consequences of what was to come, but he couldn't find himself to. It was like trying to force out the feelings he was having towards Draco; almost impossible. Besides, avoiding a visit to the Headmaster would only bring more serious consequences. Harry let out a short, heated breath, and leaned against he wall outside of the Sltytherin entrance. _That's_ when he saw Draco. He was peeking around the corner a bit further down the hall; his expression was surprised, and Harry could also see the large bit of anxiety on the Slytherin's face.

Harry was very tempted to start screaming at him. What was Draco doing hiding outside his common room?

Slowly, Draco came out from behind the wall. He stood there quite still, staring at Harry, wondering what to think. Finally, "What are you doing here?" He asked, loud enough for Harry to here.

"I'm here because of you." Harry replied dully; emotionlessly.

It made Draco appear even more confused.

"Why?" He asked.

"Because I heard you got in a fight with one of your housemates."

"How did yo --"

But before Draco could finish; his face showing what almost looked like despair and _worry_, Harry chose to ignore it all, and instead acted on the anger he felt towards the other boy. "PROFESSOR SNAPE!" He shouted loudly.

"Wha- " Draco glanced around rapidly, probably expecting the professor to suddenly dart from around a corner, and then he took a few steps back. "What? You mean Snape told you?"

Harry stared at Draco darkly. He was in no mood to talk with Draco when he had caused him to get in this situation. He had only been trying to make things better earlier, and in one way or another, something or _someone_ always made it worse.

The door to the Slytherin common room swung open, and Snape surveyed the corridor severely. He didn't look all too happy with being summoned so deafeningly by a student he was supposed to be punishing. Another student seemed to have joined Snape, though he was held in the professor's arms in a bloodied heap instead of walking along consciously.

Draco's mouth dropped open wordlessly, and Harry had the urge to remain looking unfeeling. Snape, to keep it short, looked satisfied with having not to deal with searching for young Mr. Malfoy, as well as looking ten times more furious.

"Mr. Malfoy. How nice of you to have joined us," Snape drawled.

He stepped out of the common room, with Nott lying loosely in his arms, whimpering quietly. Draco looked ready to murder the smaller boy.

"I'm glad that I've picked the right time." Draco suddenly snapped. His gray eyes were narrowed at Harry; his stare showing that he couldn't believe Harry could do something like this to him. To rat him out to the Professor.

"That'll be enough!" The Professor roared. "Follow me! BOTH OF YOU!"

With a jump, the two students followed as Snape swept his way irately through the corridors, most likely on his way to the Hospital Wing. Now that he had an extra student to take care of, Harry and Draco were sure they'd have to endure the fouler side of his mood. If he even _had_ a side that was less than foul.

Draco, Harry noticed, was following beside him with his chin raised and his attention drawn forcibly away from him. He looked a lot like he did when Harry had found him scrunched up in the shelves of the library. Though why should he care now? He was in trouble, and all for no reason. It was all Draco's fault.

It continued like this until twenty minutes later, when Snape had dropped off Theodore into the care of Madam Pomfrey and then started making his way towards Dumbledore's office. When they reached the two gargoyles at the entrance, and when the password, 'cotton lollies', had been muttered, they ascended the spiraling staircase and waited as Snape knocked violently on the door. A muffled 'Come in' was heard before Snape pushed them both inside.

"I apologize for the sudden disturbance, Headmaster, but young Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy have been caught fighting for the third time this semester. I highly doubt that no punishment should be specified." Snape had stridden up to the Headmaster's desk. Dumbledore was peering at the two students from behind his glittering spectacles. Harry and Draco stood there, tense and unmoving.

"I have warned them many times, that if their behavior doesn't improve, that there will be house points taken and serious consequences to endure, but they haven't paid any heed." Snape looked ready to curse a hole through the wall if something wasn't to be done soon, and there was still silence, besides his furious voice, echoing around the circular room.

Dumbledore sighed and brought his two ancient looking hands together in what looked like a form of prayer. Snape waited as patiently as possible, and Harry and Draco had positioned their stares onto the floor. "Thank you, Severus. This will be dealt with." Dumbledore's pale blue eyes rested back on the offending students. "You may leave. I will take the care of scheduling their sentences." A small, tilted smile graced his lips.

With his eyes almost bulging out of his head, and with a vein pulsing in his forehead, Snape stared down at them bleakly, before baring his teeth against unfriendly words and exiting the room in a flurry of black, billowing robes. Now it was only they and the Headmaster, and their expulsion in his hands. Or suspension, or anything else that would do no good on their part.

And after a few deep breaths were taken, Dumbledore spoke. "Harry, I know that none of what has happened here is your fault. No punishment will be given. Our dear Professor can overreact once in a while." Draco looked disheartened, but didn't speak quite yet. "Mr. Malfoy, it was very foolish of you to react the way you did. It is my duty to keep all the students safe, disregarding what they might have been doing to inflict you into hurting them. You're lucky that young Mr. Nott didn't get seriously injured."

A brief nod was given. "I'm going to be giving you three weeks detention with the head of your house, and practicing Quidditch will be suspended during that time." Dumbledore looked fairly disappointed in the young Malfoy as he gave information of his penalties. Harry almost felt bad for the Slytherin, for he could see the genuine distressed look in his eyes. "Is that understood? And if this behavior occurs one more time, I'm going to have to inform your mother of it." Draco looked up at the Headmaster, eyes almost pleading, but holding a defiant gleam of fury. Harry saw him swallow heavily.

"Yes, I understand." Draco answered dismally.

"Very well. You both may leave." A small wave of his hand was given, and Dumbledore stood from his desk as the door to his office opened magically.

From there, they both walked out of the common room in dampened spirits. Even though Harry was quite pleased that he hadn't gotten blamed for something he didn't do, worrying about Draco's miserable demeanor was a different story…

_I wonder what happened in the fight with Nott that made Draco look even worse than he did when I wasn't in the best of moods with him…_ Harry thought unhappily.


	16. Acceptance

The two boys had barely reached the end of the corridor leading away from Dumbledore's office, when Harry felt the need to speak up. He couldn't stand it; walking alongside Draco when he looked as if the walls of his life were steadily falling away. 

"Draco?" Harry questioned, feeling slightly nervous.

The Slytherin didn't answer. He seemed to be ignoring Harry. _Maybe he's still angry about me ratting on him_… Harry thought miserably. Though he thought it to be terribly immature. When had Draco cared about what happened to him? He was usually calm and composed about everything.

"Draco, what's wrong?" Harry repeated. Draco's footsteps quickened.

Harry was becoming impatient. He wanted to know what was wrong, and the other boy didn't even care. For once, he was trying to be friendly, and trying to get along, and now Draco had to refuse it. Or maybe it was just too late? "Draco! Stop for a second, won't you?" Harry called loudly. He was just about to run up to catch up to him, when he whipped violently around.

"What do you want, Potter! Do you want to apologize again? Is that it?" Draco's tone could've made Peeves wince. Harry backed up, having stopped a few inches away from the other boy in a hurry to catch up to his strides.

"I just asked you what was wrong!" Harry countered back defensively.

"Oh, you want to know what's wrong, do you?" Draco asked, his eyes narrowing treacherously. "Let's see… well, a certain someone just gave me away to my Head of House, just so that I could receive three weeks of detention! Let's not forget that I've landed myself no privileges to do the one thing I actually _can_ do in this bloody school, without getting wound up by every bloody _person_ here!"

"But Dr--"

The other boy continued as if he hadn't heard him. "And I appreciate this greatly, Potter. Very much so! Considering how in three weeks, I'll be leaving to go home for Christmas break!"

"That's good, is--"

"IT ISN'T GOOD, POTTER. YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME!" Draco roared. By now, the fact that they were standing in the hallway across from the Headmaster's office, wasn't occurring to either of them. Harry felt as if he was being torn apart and put back together in the most uncomfortable of ways, and Draco seemed to be having another emotional breakdown.

"And you… you just can't seem to get your head straight. You appear to like me, but you keep on denying it! You keep on running away from me. What's so wrong with me, hmm? I've been trying to be nice, but I can't. Because the Golden Boy would rather watch me squirm in discomfort than accept that his worst enemy wants to gain his attention!"

"That's not true!" Harry shouted suddenly. His patience for listening to Draco had worn thin, and he didn't enjoy being berated at for something that wasn't true. Draco had fallen quiet. "I don't enjoy seeing you like this." Harry persisted quietly.

"Then what is it?" Draco shot bitterly. "Are you turned on by seeing me angry, and then when things get too dangerous, you run away like a scared little Gryffindor?" He took a swift step forward, which made Harry stumble back in surprise.

"N-no… I just want to know what's bothering you…" Harry responded. He was trying to keep up the strong Gryffindor demeanor, but it was slowly disintegrating as Draco got closer.

"I already told you what was wrong." Draco retorted icily.

"Yeah… but you don't seem happy about going home… usually you brag about going home for the holidays every year… about all the gifts--"

"It's different this year, Potter." Draco snapped.

Then a dawning realization came to Harry. He had completely forgotten about Draco's father being in Azkaban. And it was all because of him. Harry wasn't sure what sort of impact this left on Draco, but _something_ was undeniably altered. If Draco was so angry about his father being put away… then why was he trying to be here with him? Becoming close to him would only make things worse..

"Oh." Harry mumbled. It was the only comprehensible word he could use at the moment.

"So, are you satisfied now?" Draco asked.

"S-satisfied?" Harry squeaked anxiously. At the moment, he couldn't tell what Draco was referring to. He had gotten incredibly close, with only the wall behind Harry to support him if he wanted to take a step back.

"You know what's bothering me now. Do you want to leave me alone?"

As Harry dared to look up into Draco's storming gray stare, he caught a brief glimpse of expectation there. However, it was so quick that Harry didn't know if it had actually been there or not. Draco wanted him to stay? Even when he was angry?

"No… I mean.. not really." Harry replied. "I mean… I'll leave you alone… I just.."

Draco watched him intently as he stumbled over his words. Harry was caught between flitting his eyes to the floor, or back up at Draco. He saw the pale Slytherin's tongue run over his lips, stopping at a corner, before he spoke up a second later, stepping forward. "You want to stay?" Draco asked artlessly. He brought up a hand so that his fingers could trace lightly down Harry's neck and slowly over his chest. A smirk was playing mischievously across his face. "Do you mind me touching you?" Draco questioned.

A warm, sudden shiver shot through Harry. Draco's fingers left a tingling sensation over his skin; his words seemed to draw him nearer. Harry felt, once again, weak on his knees. "N-no," Harry stuttered. A sharp intake of breath was taken, and he closed his eyes for a few seconds. His breathing was beginning to lose condition on staying on track.

"How about tasting?" Draco inquired, leaning forward. Before Harry could possibly let that sink in and respond, he felt lips brush against his left ear. An instant tremor of excitement and nerves shot through him this time. His hands lifted to grab hold of Draco's sides, pulling him closer.

"I guess you don't mind?" Draco whispered, his warm breath ghosting over his skin. Harry soon felt a tongue licking the sensitive part of his ear. Teeth soon followed, nipping at it teasingly. Harry certainly couldn't find himself to speak; his eyes were closed again, trying to control his reactions to Draco's touch.

Draco willingly followed the pull of Harry's hands, pressing himself against the other boy so that he could feel the inviting warmth. His tongue traveled its way down from Harry's ear to down along Harry's neck. Harry let out a whimper; the closest thing he could get to words of approval. This seemed to rouse Draco even more. Harry could feel hot kisses moving further downwards, followed by hands that began to pull up on his shirt. The Gryffindor's breathing was coming quicker, his eyes still closed and his head tilted to allow Draco access to more skin.

"You taste… delicious." Draco's head lifted, and the same smirk was playing across his face. His breathing seemed to be a bit uneven as well, but he also happened to look more collected than Harry. At the moment, the emerald gaze was focusing solely on the floor.

"Are you _shy_, Potter?" Draco asked. Hands crept up Harry's shirt, running smoothly over heated skin. Draco could feel a light shiver travel through the other boy. However, it did make Harry look up, his green eyes bright and his lip between his teeth. "That's better." Draco said, pleased.

Draco grinned, appearing more Slytherin than before, and then leaned his face forward. They were only a few inches apart now, and Draco could feel Harry's warm breath. "This won't do." He spoke quietly. A hand slid out from beneath Harry's shirt, only to bring his hand up to Harry's lips. Smooth fingers ran along Harry's jaw, and the lip he had been holding between his teeth was released.

"Draco…" Harry breathed.

"Yes?" Draco replied calmly. His fingers ran distractedly down to trace back and forth over Harry's neck. His gaze was locked on the Gryffindor's.

"I'm sorry… for… treating you like I have…" He whispered.

"I don't think it's all your fault…" Draco added softly. "I haven't treated you with complete care and kindness as I should have."

There was a brief moment where they paused, and all breathing seemed to stop, as they thought about what they had just said. Was it some sort of conclusion as to how they were going to treat each other from now on? Was it an apology and an acceptance for _wanting_ this? Wanting each other?

"Draco--" Harry started.

"I can never be too sure, Harry, but does this mean you don't mind being liked by me?" Draco knew he had interrupted Harry, but by the look on the other's boy face, what he was about to ask seemed to lay on the same lines. "That you like me as well?"

Harry's cheeks tinged a bit red. "Yes… I have for a while."

"A while?" Draco questioned.

"I just didn't know how to… react." Harry admitted; his eyes were back on the floor.

"I don't see why you're so nervous around me," Draco commented. His hand was lifted to cup Harry's chin and lift his face upwards again. "Well, maybe I can think of a few reasons, but I'm glad you've finally gotten some sense to try what you've been missing." The smirk reappeared.

Harry blushed even darker, before a smile touched his lips. "You never get tired of complimenting yourself, do you?" Harry asked teasingly.

"Not at all. I'm too perfect to _not_ mention it to myself."

Harry was about to roll his eyes, but it seemed as though the temptation had overrun Draco's mind, and Harry felt warm lips come in contact with his own. Draco's eyes had fluttered closed, and very soon after Harry's had as well. The touch was exhilarating; the kiss much more fervent than the others. Draco's tongue ran across Harry's bottom lip, wordlessly wanting the kiss to go further. Harry, without needing to think, parted his lips and felt Draco's warm tongue slip inside. He let out a muffled moan, letting himself be explored upon. This didn't seem to bother Draco at all; doing all the tasting himself.

And this seemed to go on for quite awhile, in which Harry hoped this would go on forever. Draco's touch drove him towards the maximum amount of pleasure, his body arching against the other's boy, hoping to get closer. His entire body felt warm and tingled all over, and he, for a moment, wondered if Draco was feeling the same exact way.

But then… Harry heard voices in the back of his head. He didn't know why they were there, but they sounded like two people that were dreadfully familiar.

_"It wasn't me, Professor… I swear!"_

_"Do_ not _tell me what you didn't do. I saw you, so there's no use in defending yourself."_

_"But--"_

_"NO, MR. FINNIGAN! I will not tolerate another Gryffindor's childish behavior! I've already had to deal with one of you today."_

_"Really?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Who?"_

_"That is none of your concern. I'm taking you to the headmaster to get you straightened out. It's the fifth time this has happened, and_ I _was lucky to find you this time, instead of the caretaker."_

_"C'mon, it's only a dung bomb, what harm can it do?"_

_"You set it off in the Slytherin dungeons. How daft can you be!"_

_"Are you _allowed_ to call me that, Professor?"_

Then, Harry heard faint footsteps that grew steadily louder each second. They didn't sound like they were coming from the back of Harry's mind anymore… they sounded… close. Suddenly, Harry pushed Draco away, the contact breaking and his breath coming out in gasps.

"What--" Draco objected.

There was silence now, and Draco looked extremely confused as to what was wrong. Maybe a bit hurt as well. But, as the Slytherin looked to glance at Harry, he saw the boy wasn't paying any attention to him. He was staring hard at the floor again, trying to push his shirt back into its rightful place quickly. That's when Draco whipped around.

All color, if it were possible, drained from Draco's face. Standing stock still, holding an expression of repulsion and shock, with a pair of dark eyes narrowed dangerously, stood Professor Snape. Right beside him, clutched by the back of the robes and looking shell-shocked, was Seamus Finnigan.


	17. Not Wanted

The new few minutes could be described as an utter embarrassment. Not surprisingly, for the first minute or so, Snape merely stood there with his eyes still narrowed. A scowl was plastered on his face, and if one were to look close enough, they could see that the corner of his lip was twitching. Seamus, on the other hand, was looking quite smug with himself. Even when he was clutched in Snape's grasp and on the way to Dumbledore's office. 

Finally, someone broke the welcomed silence. "What do you two think you are _doing_?" Snape asked. His voice was forced and coming out through clenched teeth. One had to wonder if he was trying to keep from exploding right there in the hallway.

Draco and Harry said nothing. Their gazes were on the floor. "Looks like they were kissing, Professor. Rather heated at--" Seamus started.

"WAS I ASKING YOU, MR. FINNIGAN!" Snape roared.

"Nope," Seamus replied calmly.

Harry's face burned red as he heard Seamus. He'd very much like to disappear at the moment, as long as Draco went with him. Was it against Hogwarts rules to be kissing where you could be seen? Were they both going to end up with detention? Harry swallowed and slowly brought his gaze up to Snape. He seemed to be paying more attention to Draco, who was still staring hard at the ground.

"Will you please explain to me _what_ you were doing, Mr. Malfoy? Clearly, you must have been under some charm. Potter can receive serious punishment for this…" Snape's voice lowered as he continued, sounding more and more convinced that this wasn't the case. Because Draco began to look more and more uneasy. "You can't tell me that you've done this all of a sudden without it being a charm…"

"It wasn't," Draco said softly. Too softly to hear.

"Pardon, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape questioned bleakly.

"It wasn't a charm," Draco repeated, louder this time.

Snape's eyes darkened. He looked sick. Or furious. Whichever one it was, they knew it wasn't a good thing. Harry tentatively stepped forward, so that he was standing beside Draco. With a quick glance, he could see that Seamus was watching them with far too much enjoyment.

"So. You were doing this of your free will and own choice." Snape stated. It sounded like he was informing himself of the information, instead of asking them if it was true. "There are no rules concerning a matter such as this." The Professor was staring down the hall now, as if trying to keep his eyes away from the two boys in front of him. He was _not_ happy.

"No rules, Professor?" Seamus asked, eyebrows raised. "We can kiss whenever we want?"

Snape ignored him. But Harry and Draco could see that lip twitch again.

"I'll have to inform your guardians of this, unfortunately." Snape added unsympathetically.

Draco started. "No, Professor! You don't have to inform them of anything!"

Snape turned his head and glared. "You have no authority over this matter, Mr. Malfoy."

"I thought you were on our side!"

"I am. Though that has nothing to do with informing your guardians of this."

"YES IT DOES!" Draco shouted. "You _know_ what they'll do if you tell them!"

Harry faltered behind Draco, wondering if he should speak up. Apparently, something very serious would happen if either one of Draco's parents found out about this. Harry had no doubt of that as well, but he couldn't find it in himself to be just as angry with Snape as Draco was. He didn't have relatives that would hurt him if they found out he was associating with a Draco Malfoy, someone they didn't know at all. The only thing Harry would have to endure were insults clearly pointed towards him being 'gay' or a bigger 'freak' than he already was. They might not even speak of it at all, considering it had to do with wizardry and another student from his 'freak' school. Harry had learned to ignore it.

"Mr. Malfoy, you'll have to calm down. I'm already letting you off on this. If it weren't for my kindness, you'd be heading back to Dumbledore's Office with Mr. Finnigan and myself." Snape's expression was blank now, holding no emotion. Draco continued looking at the professor as if his life was in his hands.

"Kindness! I SERIOUSLY DOUBT THAT YOU HAVE ANY IN YOU!" Draco yelled fiercely. With that, he whipped around and grabbed Harry's arm, proceeding to storm down the hallway away from Snape. "Let's go!"

Harry was startled for that one second he was tugged off, and he saw that Snape and Seamus were watching them as they went. A moment later, Snape had whipped around himself, pulling a protesting Seamus along with him.

_"If they can get away with kissing, why can't I get away with a dung bomb? That's not fair!"_

Harry lifted a hand to rub at his forehead as he continued getting dragged along by Draco. He could hear the boy muttering angrily to himself; a few curses slipping their way into those few sentences. "Draco, do you think it was okay to yell at the Professor like that?" Harry tentatively asked.

"He deserved it." Draco snapped. He finally stopped, and the abruptness caused Harry to run clumsily into his back. The Slytherin whipped around to face him. "He doesn't have a right to tell us what we can and can't do. We weren't breaking any rules, and now he's going to tell my mother, and then she's going to bloody tell my father! And it'll all be confirmed for them because it's coming from him, not some stupid kid from my own house!"

Harry took a few steps back, but since he still had Draco's hand wrapped around his arm, he didn't get very far away from the stressed out boy. He was starting to feel guilty for all of this. Because of him, Draco had to go through all of these difficulties. With Nott, and Snape, and his parents, and just his overall life. All because he wanted Harry to like him just as much as he did.

"Who-- you mean Nott told them already?" Harry asked.

"Yes." Draco responded dully. His voice seemed to have gotten tired of yelling.

"But… what can they do? I can help you… I can ask Dumbledore…"

"Dumbledore can't help. My mother wants to see me this Christmas break, and there's no way I can avoid it. She'll make it happen somehow. And I _know_ it's about me and you." Draco sighed frustratingly, averting his stormy gray gaze to the floor. "But at least I'll be here for Christmas."

Harry's brows furrowed, feeling much too confused. "What do you mean? You _are_ coming back. It's not like the world is ending."

Draco's eyes moved back to stare darkly into Harry's own emeralds. "Something more than her just getting angry with me is going to happen. I don't know if I'll be back or not."

But… that couldn't happen. Not to Draco. Not because of him.

"Draco, that won't happen. I won't let th--" Harry began, becoming scared. However, before he could finish the sentence, he felt Draco's warm lips press against his own. That wonderfully warm feeling soaked through him then, and his eyes fluttered closed almost instantly.

Hands made their way to wrap possessively around Harry's waist. Draco pressed himself closer against the other boy, trying to get everything out of this moment as he could. He didn't want to leave Harry. He didn't want to return home alone; to not have Harry by his side. He was frightened of what was going to happen to him. But he knew he'd have to go through it someday… waiting would only make it more painful. Draco pulled away reluctantly after a few more moments.

"I'm sorry. I can't let you help me." Draco whispered. He continued holding Harry, while his eyes were focused somewhere near the Gryffindor's shoulder. "You'll get hurt."

"But… I want to help you." Harry insisted worriedly.

"Don't." Draco said. It surprised Harry how hard Draco's tone was.

"But…"

"No, I don't want your help. So stay _away_ from that idea."

Hands tightened around his waist for a few more minutes. There was silence. And during that silence, Harry was trying to figure out something to say. He couldn't just stand by and let Draco go off without any protection. He couldn't stay useless here at the school while Draco went home and had to get punished for something that was his fault…

"I have to go…" Draco said quietly. Still not knowing what to say, Harry stood there and watched Draco walk swiftly down the hall towards the Slytherin dungeons.


	18. After Detention

The next few days were quiet. Harry heard or saw none of Draco, and Draco made sure he was avoiding Harry at all costs. He couldn't have the boy starting to worry about him. He couldn't have him trying to help; he'd end up getting hurt, and Draco knew how much of a hero Harry was known to be. So this was all right. This was the best decision. He shouldn't have gotten himself involved with Harry in the first place.

Those few days were spent spending detention with Snape. He seemed to have a never-ending supply of chores for the young Slytherin to do. Scrubbing the floor, the cauldrons, organizing the viles, chopping up extra ingredients, grading some fair few assignments he hadn't gotten around to. These detentions sometimes lasted into the dead of night, where Draco could be seen trudging tiredly down to the Slytherin dorms. No one was awake, of course, and he had permission to be walking down the halls so late.

Draco hadn't been getting any sleep either. Most of his time was spent thinking about Harry. The lack of seeing him seemed to add more onto the amount of time he spent thinking about the boy. Damn it. He hadn't meant for it to go this far. He had thought it to simply be a crush, not love. Not a feeling he had blocked himself from all of his life. Love. Obviously, he had been right in doing so; it only caused more trouble than necessary in life. Yet, he kept on thinking of Harry; tossing and turning in the middle of the night as he did.

Then there were more detentions. More skipping of meals. More worrying. More thinking. More never-ending distress that Draco couldn't help but feel every day. Not once had he seen Harry. He supposed the boy had taken his word for it and backed away from the situation. Maybe he knew that getting twisted into the life of a Malfoy was a bad idea.

Good. That's what Draco wanted.

Yet... it wasn't.

The night before the day he'd be leaving to go home to his mother, which happened to be Christmas Day, edged around quite suddenly. And he needed to see Harry. He _had_ to. It was Christmas, and he only wanted to see the boy for one last time. There was no way to avoid him tonight.

So after detention, instead of heading back down to the Slytherin dungeons, he made his way toward the Gryffindor portrait hole. The Fat Lady was sleeping in her painting, and Draco stood there, looking horribly exhausted, wondering what to do. That was, until the portrait swung open all of a sudden, making him jump.

"Who's there?" Draco whispered. It looked like no one had come out.

"Draco?" Someone whispered back. "Is that you?"

"Yes, are you Harry?" He replied somewhat stupidly.

"Yeah." Harry slipped off the hood of his invisibility cloak to reveal his face. Draco nearly pounced on the boy, wrapping his arms around him. All of the restless sleeping, and thinking of Harry through it all, certainly had a way of building up inside of him. He wasn't afraid of showing his affectionate side tonight; he wanted to see Harry.

"I've been wanting to see you..." Draco buried his face into the crook of Harry's neck, while the raven haired boy tentatively tried comforting him. "I'm leaving tomorrow." He murmered.

"I thought you didn't want me around..." Harry said softly.

"No, I want you around. I just... well, no helping me when I go home, okay?" Draco lifted his head then, to watch Harry's face. The boy looked very uncertain.

Harry shifted on his feet for a few seconds, his eyes glancing to the ground, before he looked back up at Draco. "Ok. I won't. But you'll be okay, promise me? You can come to my house this summer, and we can plan it when you return after Christmas."

"Your house? With the muggles?" Draco asked, biting his lip.

"It'll be fine... they can't stop me from bringing you home with me."

Draco smiled, the heavy feeling in his chest seeming to lighten. "I'd like that."

Harry returned the smile. "I'm glad you came to talk to me before you left."

"I couldn't go without saying goodbye..." Draco's arm slid up and around Harry's neck, so that he could lean his head on the other boy's shoulder. He could feel soft breathing against his face as Harry tilted his head down to look at him.

"It won't be goodbye. You'll see me soon."

Draco didn't say anything. He was trying to blink back the burning feeling forming at the corner of his eyes. No, why was he going to cry now? Things were going well...

"Draco?" Harry asked after a few moments of silence had passed.

"I know... I'll see you soon." His head lifted from Harry's shoulder, and he tried smiling. But it was difficult. The hand not resting on Harry was used to wipe quickly at his eyes.

"Are you crying?" Harry questioned, his eyebrows furrowing worriedly.

"No." Draco said softly. Before anything else could be said, he leaned forward, pressing his lips against Harry's. That hand wrapped tighter around Harry. He could feel Harry's lips slowly moving in response to the kiss. He felt arms wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. And he did, as he let his tongue slip between the other boy's parted lips. He deepened the kiss, pouring all of his wanting into this one moment. He felt Harry's tongue slip past his, and explored that wonderful taste that belonged to Harry, and when it came to the point where he had to breathe, he reluctantly pulled away. He licked his lips, hoping that he'd be able to keep the kiss there forever...

Draco stayed quiet, calming his uneven breathing, while he felt Harry's chest rising and falling against his own.

"I was... going to go and see you tonight." Harry mentioned quietly.

The Slytherin smiled again. His fingers idly ran up and down the back of Harry's neck. "So we both had the same things on our mind." Harry nodded, his own small smile forming as he looked to the ground.

"I'll be seeing you soon though. When I return." Draco knew he was trying to reassure himself. Part of him knew that wasn't really going to happen. He swallowed heavily, his smile fading. He drew his arm away from Harry, looking on the verge on crying again.

"I'll be waiting for you." Harry spoke softly, still looking down. Though his gaze finally lifted to look at Draco, looking sure of the fact. "You'll be fine."

"I know..." Draco choked out slowly. He used the back of his hand to hurriedly wipe at his eyes again. "See you in a week, Harry." With that, he turned around, and started near running down the hallway. He didn't hear any other footsteps moving behind him, and he instantly knew that Harry was still standing there watching him go.

Though, he eventually turned the corner, knowing he was out of Harry's sight, and that's when he felt the burning stop, and that tears were beginning to fall silently down his face.


	19. Going Home

It was the morning he had to leave. He'd gotten up much too early, and it ended up with him sitting nervously on the edge of his bed. He knew the only reason he was awake was because of his rapidly growing nerves. He felt sick to his stomach. 

A look in the mirror proved to him that he was, indeed, horribly nervous. His skin was paler than usual and clammy at the touch. His hair, even though he had brushed it back, was still hanging down messily in some places. His clothes had been shakily straightened, and his trunk packed for home was a complete mess.

Except he knew that none of his neatness would've mattered anyway.

When it was close to the time he had to go down to the entrance hall, he charmed his trunk to a feather-light weight and started making his way out of the Slytherin common room. He didn't say goodbye to any of his housemates, or spent his time gazing around at the dark room he had spent six school years in. He didn't look up at all, actually. He only concentrated on following his footsteps into the hallway, where Professor Snape would be guiding all of the other students leaving this morning into carriages waiting in front of the castle.

"Mr. Malfoy." The Professor stated coldly as Draco stopped beside him. "Enjoy your holidays, and thank you for showing up to your detentions accordingly."

A thank you? Well, Snape could act amazingly generous on Christmas. Draco nodded, staying silent. Snape stared at him for a bit longer, as if expecting a better response, before giving up and telling him to go outside and wait for a carriage. Draco quietly did.

Ten minutes was spent waiting, and the entire time Draco felt numb. Unfeeling. He couldn't find himself to feel sad about leaving, or afraid about going home. He was blocking himself from these feelings; if he didn't, he knew he'd break down right here and now. He'd be running back through the castle in search of Harry, embracing him and saying that he wanted to stay with him for the remainder of his holidays. For the remainder of his life.

It was the sound of a carriage stopping abruptly before him that brought any sign of movement out of the Slytherin. He glanced up gradually, and levitated his trunk into the seat after opening the door. He climbed in himself, staring out at Hogwarts as the carriage started moving quickly down the trail toward the train platform. He still refused to feel anything, even though he could feel that burning in his eyes return.

* * *

Later that evening, he found himself standing in front of Malfoy Manor with trunk in hand. He stared at it for minutes before he actually found the will to step forward. The train ride had been long, and seemed intent on torturing him. It had made him more frightened than ever before, and now he felt as though he'd collapse before he reached the front door. 

But he didn't, and he knocked on the door after another five minutes of standing in front of it. His eyes were downcast, his posture a lot less straight, and his spirit just about gone completely. He only looked up when he saw the door open. His mother was standing there.

His mother. He took notice that she looked just as miserable as he did, but she was managing to hold herself better. She was dressed nicely, her hair pulled back, and her lips in the form of a welcoming smile. But her eyes... they were much less lively than normal. They looked dead. "Hello, Mother." Draco greeted resignedly.

"I'm glad to see you again, Draco." She took a step forward and embraced him in a light hug. "How have you been, darling?"

"I've been fine." He replied, expressionless.

"Why don't you come inside?" She asked once she had pulled out of the hug. Draco nodded, silently making his way inside with his trunk. He set it down in the hallway, looking around as if expecting someone. Or something. But his house looked the same as usual. Dank and dark, covered in paintings of ancestors and expensive decorations. Candles lighting the hallways, with long carpets drawn out across the dusty floors. Draco sighed.

"Would you like to sit down and visit over some tea?" His mother asked from beside him. Her voice sounded apprehensive, not knowing what her son might be thinking. Wondering if he was alright. Draco nodded again. Him and his family had always been so formal with eachother. Why would he think that it would change today?

A few minutes later, he made his way into a cozy room with his mother. They sat down in chairs facing the fireplace. Orange and red flames were blazing merrily in the grate. One of their house elves had brought tea and biscuits into the room and set them on the table between them. Gingerly, his mother picked up the warm cup nearest her and sipped lightly.

"Drink darling. You look unwell."

Draco looked at her briefly, unsmiling, and then picked up his own cup of tea. But he didn't get to drinking it; he was too worried to do anything at the moment. He wanted to know why he was here. He wasn't just home to visit, and his mother knew about what was happening at Hogwarts, so why was she prolonging the time to talk about it?

"Why am I here, Mother?" He finally asked.

There were a few seconds of silence, before Narcissa set down her cup and watched her son with sad eyes. "The Nott family has informed me of a new... occurrence." She sighed. "Something about close relations with you and Harry Potter."

Draco moved restlessly in the large chair, managing to keep his gaze locked on his mother.

"And?" He questioned bleakly.

"And, the Nott family has also informed other sources that are now angry about it. Is it really true, Draco?" She looked at him with pleading eyes, as if begging him to say that is wasn't. It was one horrible thing for him to fall in love with a male, but an enemy at that?

"Yes, it is." There was no use in lying. He spoke with his voice shaking. He couldn't hide his growing panic. "What other sources?"

"The families that are still closely following beside the Dark Lord, Draco." Her own voice started shaking, and she turned her head to stare at the fire. "Why did you do this?"

"It wasn't a choice, Mother." Draco swallowed, feeling his hands shaking. The tea was starting to swish around within the cup. He took an unsteady sip.

Suddenly, he felt his mother's eyes back on him. He could see tears in her eyes, and he instantly felt his heart drop. "What is it?"

"They're going to kill you, Draco." She covered her mouth with her hands, fighting back a quiet sob. "I received a letter, saying that they couldn't have the son of a very prestigious family following in the footsteps of the one boy who brought the Dark Lord's downfall. They are to arrive tomorrow, and... they didn't say how it was going to be done."

Draco froze. His throat seemed to clench up entirely, and only when he let this sink in, did he take another sip of tea. "They're doing this without even bothering to find out if it's true?"

Narcissa nodded her head softly. "They know it is." She slowly looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. "Draco, darling, I'm sorry."

He watched her carefully. An odd sort of feeling was starting to build up inside of him. "You didn't do anything, Mother." He spoke softly. He could feel those hot tears threatening to fall.

"No, Draco... I have. I wasn't able to stop this from happening. I love you... I can't let you hurt. This happened so suddenly that I can hardly believe that it's over one little thing such as love..." She sniffed, retrieving a handkerchief from within her jacket pocket. "You won't be seeing them tomorrow."

"What?" Draco glanced anxiously at her.

"I've... I've given you..." He could tell that his mother couldn't handle this conversation anymore, and Draco concluded that it would've been smart to not start it at all. Maybe he should've just waited for this to happen. That way he wouldn't be worrying about tomorrow. They both knew they wouldn't be able to stop the Death Eaters.

"Given me what, Mother?" Draco asked, panicked.

"Oh, Draco, I'm so sorry! I couldn't let them put you through any pain. You don't deserve it. You're just a boy!" She stood up, making his way over to him, and bent low over him to bring him into a tight hug. Draco sat there, eyes closed, not knowing what she meant.

"Mother? What are you talking about?" He slowly stood up, so that he could push her gently away. The cup of tea was set back down on the table.

Without answering him, Narcissa went back over to her own chair, resting her head in her hands while trying to calm her quiet sobs. Draco was just about ready to yell at her, if she didn't tell him soon. What was wrong? What was going to happen to him! He wanted to know!

"The tea, Draco." She whispered finally.

When that was spoken, Draco stood there silently. The only sounds were of his mother crying, and the occasional sparks crackling in the fireplace. Slowly, he ran a hand through his hair, which had managed to tousle itself. He swallowed heavily again.

"Mother?" Draco bit his lip. "Are you saying...?"

"Yes." She replied loudly, quickly, as if it was costing her life to tell her only son that she had done this to him. Maybe it was. If the Death Eaters found out...

"I didn't..." Draco's voice choked again, and a few tears fell onto the floor. "I didn't mean to..." In the next moment, he had turned around and rushed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He ran clumsily up the staircase, down the darkened hallway, and into his room, where he collapsed on top of his bed. Blurry eyes stared up at the ceiling, wondering if this was really happening.

His own mother had done this to him? Yet, it had to be for his own good, so he wouldn't end up having to go through the Crucio curse... or even worse. Draco forced back frightened tears. No... his mother hadn't poisoned his tea. This was all just a dream. He wasn't going to die. He was going to be fine.

Minutes passed where he waited for something to happen. He remained laying on his bed, thinking, wondering, and not wanting to think at all. Then, bit by bit, he felt himself slipping away from this reality. He felt unworried, light, and unusually comfortable.

No, nothing was actually going to happen. He'd return to school at the end of this week. He'd see Harry and kiss and talk with him like there was no tomorrow. They'd plan his visit to Harry's house during the summer. He'd see Harry's relieved grin when he returned from home unscathed. The letter from his mother had ended up being a misunderstanding.

Yes... Harry and him would have a wonderful life together. Draco would make sure of it.

Smiling to himself, Draco closed his eyes against that drowsy feeling. A few silent minutes passed before his mother came upstairs, knocking lightly on his bedroom door.

Draco lay on his bed, unmoving.

* * *

**Author's Note**: That was the end, my loyal readers. I hope that you enjoyed it. I was very distressed to have done that to Draco, but alas, I thoughtit was fitting for the ending. For those who read the note at the very beginning of this entire story, I hope you remembered that this was written a year ago. I changed none of the chapters since then, and that was the reason my updates were coming so fast; they were already written. And, I also realize that this ending was a very quick and sudden one; I hope that didn't bother any of you. I received complaints about it before. In any case, farewell until the next story.


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